Ripples
by AutumnDream26
Summary: If you thought finding your fiancee in bed with another was rough,imagine receiving their wedding invitation. It leaves Caroline Forbes drowning in an endless sea of broken hopes and dreams. Salvation comes in the form of Klaus Mikaelson,an enigmatic man who lives captive in a violent past haunted by war and a bloody family legacy,whose demons could end up killing them both.
1. Chapter 1

Soft music reached her ears upon opening the door. It was an old jazz tune.

Stefan had always been a rock kind of guy. Wrinkling her eyebrows at the strange sound, Caroline quietly rested her bag on the glass hallway table. The gesture led to her eyes stopping on the golden band adorning her ring finger.

Two months and three weeks.

That was all that separated her from her wedding with the man of her dreams, Stefan Salvatore.

A dreamy sigh escaped her lips as she was reminded on his romantic, over-the-top proposal: renting an entire restaurant, preparing a candlelit dinner, taking her to dance in the patio, only to go down on one knee while they were gazing at the stars. Such perfection had even given off the impression that the full moon had turned into the protector of their love and that, as long as it shone in the sky, it would never end.

 _Always the hopeless romantic_ , she chastised herself, but the truth was that her feelings for Stefan were the reason why she was home early from work. He'd said he wasn't feeling well and that he would probably try to sleep it off until she returned. So, of course, Caroline Forbes had to go and buy some chicken soup along with cold medicine and bring them to Stefan immediately.

Careful, as to not wake him up, she put on the kettle to make some chamomile tea and, steaming cup in hand, headed for the bedroom. The raspy woman voice that crooned gently only got louder. How could Stefan be sleeping through all that commotion? He must be feeling worse than Caroline had initially believed.

Cracking open the door, at first all Caroline could see was a mess of pristine, white sheets which she'd washed and pressed this morning, moving around in bed. Then, seconds later, a mop of dirty-blonde hair emerged, tipping backwards, eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open and moaning aloud.

The cup dropped to the floor, scalding liquid soaking the plush carpet and the woman gasped, shock and disbelief written all over her face. "Stefan?" was all she could whisper.

Apparently, it was enough because two sets of disbelieving, widening orbs turned in her direction. Immediately, her fiancée tried to disentangle his limbs from the other woman, a task made harder by the silk linens over which he kept tripping.

Meanwhile, Caroline wasted no time. Feeling the sharp sting of tears burning, she determinedly turned on her heels, making big strides and hoping she was out of the door before the dam broke. She refused to give them the satisfaction to see her break down.

That was reserved for when she was alone in her apartment, with ice-cream and Netflix to soothe her broken heart, if they could. A loud thud announced Stefan tumbling to the ground and it sent hope that her wish might come true and a confrontation was avoidable. For now, at least.

Unfortunately, her life had never been easy and just as she could see the exit, a sweaty palm clamped down on her wrist. She shuddered at the thought of why he was this worked up, the foul taste of bile brought on by the images her mind conjured incessantly.

"Caroline, wait," Stefan began. "I can explain this."

Caroline couldn't help but roll her eyes at the absurdity of that overused line. Did it ever work? If it did, the woman must be really stupid, she concluded. Trying to wrestle free proved to no avail. Begging her voice wouldn't falter she resorted to biting words. "Seriously, Stefan? Do you honestly think me that idiotic to actually fall for any of your explanations? I saw plenty and I can draw my own conclusions, thank you very much."

"Caroline, please," he begged." Please, just hear me out."

"Stefan, let go of my hand, right now." The coldness laced in her voice must have astonished Stefan because he did as asked. Like minutes ago, the engagement ring drew her in. Only this time elation was replaced by contempt. "Oh, by the way, the wedding," she struggled to keep the same indifferent tone. "It's off."

It was safe to say that Stefan looked like a puppy that had been kicked by its owner. "Care," he mumbled brokenly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Stefan," interrupted a purring female voice. "What's going on?"

Her fiancée's mistress was standing in _her_ hallway, only wearing _her_ bedcovers to hide her nudity while a music she didn't recognize resonated over the deafening silence that extended between the three adults. If it didn't hurt this much she would be laughing right now. They appeared to have come out of a cheap romantic movie.

One more look at the diamond shining brightly even in her dimly lit apartment. It was everything she'd ever wanted: her future with Stefan Salvatore.

All ruined. Burning right before her eyes.

A tear rolled down her face and there was no stopping the ones that followed in her steps. After all, this was probably the hardest thing she'd done in her life so far. But there was no going back. Pride and dignity guided her next move. Slowly taking off the gold jewelry, it weighed next to nothing, but held her entire heart; she started walking towards the other woman.

"He's all yours now," she placed it in her palm. "I hope he makes you happy."

"Caroline," Stefan's comforting voice interrupted. It was like soothing velvet; it made her want to melt down in his arms and never leave that cocoon of safety. But that was impossible. He'd made it crystal clear.

"Don't, Stefan," her plea was honest. She couldn't take his lies if that was the way he chose to go on, but pity was not a desirable emotion either. "Just tell me one thing. Do you love her?"

A pregnant pause extended Caroline's nerves. She was preparing to climb the walls or pull out her hair, whichever her distraught mind deemed more relaxing, when he finally responded. "I'm so sorry, Caroline." And she knew. "It was never my intention to hurt you, but yes, I do love her."

A knife pierced her heart. She was clearly the antagonist in this love story. "Then it was worth it."

After that heavy statement, neither Stefan nor naked, busty blonde appeared capable of forming any words. Using the moment to her advantage, Caroline slipped out of her and Stefan's apartment for the last time. Through blurred vision, she managed to reach her red Hyundai and climb into the driver's seat before sobs engulfed her body entirely.

Her future- it was all gone now. The perfect wedding, the one she'd been planning since being a toddler was called off. Worst of all, the man she loved with all of her heart, didn't reciprocate anymore and instead of being a man and telling it to her face, he'd gone and lied and cheated on her for who knows how long.

No, this was too much. Why did these things only happen to her? Had God slapped a magnet to her forehead that repelled all the joy from her life? Why was she always second choice to the men in her life?

"The curse of Caroline Forbes," she laughed bitterly, banging her head against the window when it hit her: her friends. They were all Stefan's friends too. Would they blame her for the monumental failure of the engagement? Caroline: the neurotic, control-freak blonde who always ruins everything.

Anyhow, even if they didn't, she didn't jump at the possibility of them offering comfort. Imagining Damon bringing her a cup of tea and offering a shoulder to cry on at Elena's orders made her laugh out loud. As a result, to anyone watching, Caroline Forbes appeared positively unhinged and insane. And wouldn't in this situation?

Well, crazy or not, there was only one thing clear in her mind at the moment: she needed some time away. And no, she wasn't running, just taking an unplanned vacation and her heart only deemed fit for such endeavor one place.

Her father's house. Wiping the salty liquid off her cheeks, she grabbed her phone and dialed a number she'd learned by heart after their reconciliation.

"Hello," warm honey greeted her.

"Daddy," she hated the way her voice croaked. Like when she was 12 and had broken her foot in PE class and had called her dad for help. To be honest, having your heart shattered hurt a billion times more than that.

"Caroline, sweetheart," worry took over. "What happened? Are you okay?" His fatherly instincts must have told him that something was clearly wrong.

 _No_ , she wanted to scream, but couldn't. "Can I come over for a few days?"

* * *

A few days turned into a couple of months spent avoiding personal questions and ignoring the few dozen missed calls from Elena, Bonnie, Matt and, believe it or not, Stefan. She'd just sent a text to the former three that assured them that she was all right and would return shortly. However, the task was hardened by the princess treatment she received in her dad's residence.

Her father's boyfriend was amazing and, along with Bill Forbes, they'd helped raise her spirits by taking her shopping, cooking and even agreeing to lounge in front of the TV watching gruesome horror movies with zero critical value and substance. But she loved them because there was no time for silly things like love in them. Who fell in love while being hunted by a maleficent ghost? Or while running from a pack of zombies?

But, the dream was over, the illusion fractured and tomorrow she'd abandon this safe haven and head back home, to Mystic Falls. As a general surgeon, she'd been offered countless jobs in bigger cities, but she'd never been fully ready to move on. Her friends, even her mother had held her back, but maybe now, when her future didn't look that bright anymore, when the foundation of her so-called perfect life crumbled, she could attempt to start over someplace else.

Maybe courage would come back and Caroline Forbes could find her old spirit of adventure; the one that had abandoned her since high-school. Yes, it was decided, come tomorrow, she would start browsing for open positions in cities she'd dreamed of visiting: New York, Chicago, Seattle, Los Angeles or New Orleans. She could even plan a holiday out of the country like she'd always wanted.

Not France, though. That was where she was supposed to have her honeymoon with Stefan. The newlyweds, enjoying macaroons and watching the sunset, cuddled, with the Eiffel Tower enveloping them in a soft shadow, sheltering them from prying eyes.

That was gone. All that remained were memories and a gaping hole in her heart. A wound that bled profoundly and which had refused to stitch back.

"Honey, this came for you," her father extended an elegant, peach envelope tied together by a silver ribbon.

Elegant was the first word that came to mind when she saw it. Refined followed suit.

Nobody had any business sending something like this to her.

"It must be a mistake, Dad. I'm not expecting anything."

Bill Forbes shook his head and insisted that she take it. After she finally acquiesced, he excused himself giving her privacy. Her father really had changed, she realized instantly. From the man desperate to control every aspect of her life, he'd grown into an understanding and supportive parent. Despite leaving her mother for another man, a feat she'd despised deeply, she could now say with all honesty that he was forgiven.

Swiftly opening the envelope, the satin ribbon sliding off effortlessly, her good mood plummeted. Taking another look at the paper and willing the words to disappear, she was brought back to reality. Apparently a lot had changed while she'd been away. And like it or not, her holiday had, in fact, been what some might call running away from your problems, sticking your head in the sand and waiting for them to disappear, which hadn't happened.

Lives had run their courses while she'd been away, obviously. The piece of paper clenched in her fist made that abundantly clear.

" _Valerie Tulle and Stefan Salvatore request the pleasure of your company at the celebration of their marriage, Saturday, the 17_ _th_ _of June 2016 in Malibu California at the Sheraton Hotel. The rehearsal dinner will take place on the 15_ _th_ _of June. All guests are required to confirm their presence as soon as possible so that adequate hotel rooms can be booked."_

This was the same day as her own wedding. The one she'd taken 6 months to prepare. Nothing had changed but color of the invitations and the location. Valerie must have wanted something more posh. The pit in her heart grew even bigger. Soon it would engulf all of her heart. For the hundredth time in the last 2 months she was crying. Stefan and Valerie had really done a number on the sweet, carefree Caroline everyone liked.

This invitation was just the final piece of the domino that sent her tumbling to the floor. A mess of pieces that would take an eternity to assemble back together.

How could he invite her to his wedding? After all he'd done? How had he even learned where she was staying? The final question was answered immediately: her mother.

She took another glance at the polished piece of paper. Her eyes hadn't deceived her- the wedding ceremony would take place in 3 weeks. She wouldn't go. She couldn't.

Somehow, though, that decision felt like the coward's way out. And mere minutes ago, she'd sworn to herself that she would take the reins of her complicated life and drag herself into the light. Become strong once again. Stand tall and be proud of all she'd achieved.

And what way to start such a daunting quest than by conquering her biggest demon: being face to face with the man whom she still madly loved, but who'd preferred somebody else. Like they all did.

In order to do that, she had to appear confident, like she hadn't been sitting on the couch, moping all day. Self-assured and happy. Those were the two feats she had to convey to everyone around her.

What could she do for that to become true? At least an hour was spent pondering on a solution for afore-mentioned questioned. Regardless the effort, her mind remained a blank page.

Dinner was calling at her empty stomach and she was on the verge of giving up the fight and choosing to remain in hiding at her father's 5 star residence when brilliance returned to its master.

It had been so easy. How could she not have seen it?

All she had to do was come accompanied. Make everyone believe that she was madly in love with someone else so that they would forget about Stefan breaking her heart and save all of their misguided and sympathetic looks and words.

It had to be someone good looking, someone whose presence was easily remarkable and who instilled respect in those around them. It would be great for him to be someone Stefan and Caroline knew before their breakup so it would seem legit for them to hook up. It was important for it not to look like a fake relationship or she would never live down the embarrassment.

As she was putting down the list of requirements for her future fake boyfriend, she came to the astonishing conclusion that she knew just the man for the job. He was everything she'd written down, but most importantly, he and Stefan despised each other for reasons unknown to Caroline.

The downside was that he was quite intimidating and would never give such a ridiculous plan even a second thought. The good part was that she had two weeks to convince him. Calling the hotel, instead of Stefan or any of her friends, she confirmed her attendance along with her boyfriend and started packing her things. Booking a flight, first thing in the morning, Caroline Forbes concentrated on concocting the best way to convince him to be her date at the wedding. When no obvious solution came to mind, she chose to improvise, as she rarely did. Perhaps it was time for that to change as well, if it was possible to modify something so deeply ingrained in someone's behavior.

" _Better prepare yourself, Klaus Mikaelson, I'm coming for you. I don't care how tough you are, in the end you will give in to me. Nobody says no to Caroline Forbes and you certainly won't be the first to deny me."_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**

 **Wow! I'm so thankful to everyone who reviewed or added this story to their favourite/follow list. It makes me so happy that you liked my story so please, if you have the time keep leaving me some sort of feedback.**

* * *

New Orleans.

Caroline had just landed after nearly 4 exhausting hours. True to her famous luck, a bout of turbulence had hit the plane, awakening fear and terror among her fellow passengers. How ironic it would have been for her plane to go down the very first time she actually left Mystic Falls or her father's town. Though lost on other people on the flight, the irony amused the blonde who looked as if she'd lost all common sense.

Boy, Stefan Salvatore had really messed up the once beautifully poised Caroline Forbes. Never before had anyone hurt her this deeply. He'd taken away all of her hopes for the future- a family- that's what she'd been dreaming of. A family unlike the dysfunctional one she'd grew up in. Buy maybe it had been for the best. Clearly, she couldn't even manage her life, no way was she fit for that dream. The hospital, lost nights in operation rooms- that was the only place where she felt in control now. So she would go back to that, but not before making Stefan feel an ounce of what she'd experienced.

That precise purpose had guided her here, possessing a name: Klaus Mikaelson. She'd only met him once before, when he'd been passing through her hometown, visiting Stefan. A brief introduction was exchanged between them and Klaus had unexpectedly left, never to return again before further interaction was possible. Curiosity had prompted her to ask Stefan about it, but he'd waved her off, mumbling a few incoherent words and the subject hadn't garnered enough of her interest for her to insist with her fiancée. Elena had shed some more light on the subject using the limited information an evasive Damon had offered.

Apparently, Stefan and Klaus had been best friends years ago when the Salvatore brothers didn't speak with each other. For an unknown reason, they'd had a fallen out and hadn't spoken until Klaus had mysteriously arrived in Mystic Falls. The only other knowledge Elena possessed was that Damon had warned that Klaus was dangerous and to stay away from him.

Now, she had come to find this presumably threatening man and ask him to accompany her to Stefan's wedding. And she had no idea where to start. New Orleans was a big city and finding a certain person without any specific directions was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

First things first though. She was tired, starving and yearning for a hot bath and lunch. Even so, the beauty of the city managed to amaze her. The rumble of people filling out the streets, marching bands, parades at every corner and artists capturing the unique exquisiteness around them. Her hotel, located in the center of the French Quarter, appeared taken out of an alluring travel magazine with its 19th century architecture, interior patio with marble fountains and rows of delicate white lilies and fierce red peonies. Like a fairytale come true.

 _So this is what the world has to offer_ , she thought, ordering some lasagna from room service.

So desperate and out of ideas on how to find Klaus was she, that she resorted to asking the bell boy if he knew anyone with that name. Neither did him, nor was any Klaus Mikaelson listed so the hope of finding a phone number vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. Merely encountering him seemed hopeless, let alone convincing the big, bad wolf to pretend to be her lover in a believable way.

Forsaking her nap and replacing the bath with a quick shower, Caroline got to work. With two weeks to go, the seconds were precious. That was precisely why not a single shop or restaurant within 15 blocks escaped her relentless enquiries, but it proved to no avail. Nobody had heard of him.

Desolation had replaced her previous excitement at visiting a new, big city. Reality had hit her with full force: unless the fates conspired in her favor, there was no way she would catch sight of him. For God's sake, he might not even live here anymore. After all, it had been over a year since he'd left from Mystic Falls to New Orleans.

What had begun as a dull throbbing behind her eyes had now progressed to a merciless ponding in her temples. Alcohol. She needed alcohol to soothe her ailing head and nerves brought on by the daunting task ahead of her.

 _Rousseau's._

A small, wooden sign was fluttering in the night wind advertising a much needed bar. At least her wish to drown her sorrows in booze was made true by whatever deity usually laughed at her. Without another thought, she stepped into the establishment; surprise growing at how many people could fit into such a tiny space and headed straight for the bar. A pretty, brunette lifted her big, maroon eyes from the cocktail she was preparing.

"Hey," she smiled brightly. "What can I get for you tonight?"

Taking a seat at one of the uncomfortable, leather stools, she ordered some bourbon. Stefan's betrayal had really done a number on her considering her drink of choice was the same as Damon's. How low the mighty had fallen. "Are you alright?" the polite bartender questioned while setting down a glass filled with amber liquid.

"Not really," she downed the entire content in once gulp, welcoming the burn and signaling for another.

"I haven't seen you around here. I'm Melanie," the other woman refilled her tumbler.

Were she honest, the blonde wasn't in the mood for small talk at the moment, with images of Stefan in bed with Valerie, giggling at the prospect of their future wedding piercing like a knife through her heart, but Melanie was too nice and sweet to simply ignore. "Caroline. I just came into town." On a whim, Caroline continued. "Actually, I'm looking for someone. Would you happen to know a Klaus Mikaelson?"

Once the question was out, she felt stupid for continuing with this madness even after promising herself that she would unwind tonight. Of course, Melanie hadn't heard of him. Nobody appeared to.

"Yes, actually I do."

Caroline nearly spat out her drink. "You do?"

The bartender laughed at Caroline's widened eyes and shocked expression. "Yeah, he's sort of a regular around here," brown orbs scanned the room, focusing on a table at the back, facing the exit. "He's right over there."

Sure enough, the man Melanie was pointing at resembled the person she'd met months ago. Finally, her guardian angel had decided to pull some strings and do his freaking job. For once in her life, she was reaping the sows of luck. Biting her lip, she studied Klaus. He seemed different. Somehow even more reserved than before. Tense, a hardness that hadn't been quite there before. Sure, he had been clearly on edge back then, like he'd been through a lot and that still haunted him, but now, he looked dark, tormented, dangerous. Hesitation was creeping in.

Klaus Mikaelson wasn't a man to be trifled with. Damon's warning was starting to make a whole lot of sense. Perhaps she should just head back home and invent an excuse for not being able to attend the wedding. Everyone would look between the lines and understand the real reason, but who could judge her?

No, unacceptable –losing before the final gong was unacceptable. She would not give up without a fight. It just wasn't in her nature. Losing a battle before you even began was a sign of weakness, lack of belief in your own skin and Caroline was neither weak nor insecure. Two weeks, she would try for two weeks and then head to the ceremony with or without Klaus. All in all, she wasn't the one who should be ashamed when they'd been the one to betray her, right?

Gulping the newly poured drink, Caroline took a deep breath and stood up. "Where are you going?" Melanie screamed after her to cover the music.

"To do probably the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life," squaring her shoulders. "Wish me luck."

The music drowned out Melanie's good luck, but even if the room had been enveloped in silence, Caroline still wouldn't have heard her. She was concentrating on how to approach a man that seemed entirely unapproachable. Hell, she could take off all her clothes and Klaus would surely not even notice, that engrossed was he in the depths of his own mind.

Choosing just to be direct and bite the bullet, Caroline strutted all the way to his table, ignoring the cat-calls she left in her wake. Rude pricks who were unworthy of her attention. "Is this seat taken?" fake confidence exuded from every pore in her body and she prayed her uneasiness wouldn't show on the outside.

Slowly and deliberately, Klaus lifted his eyes from the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table. His alcohol resistance must be way better than hers because he seemed alert, studying her from head to toe, his muscles taut not once showing the effects of heavy drinking.

"Yes," he responded dry. Briefly, recognition showed in his sapphire eyes, but he didn't acknowledge her. With that one word he'd effectively cut her off, but bowing in defeat wasn't done within minutes of stepping out into the ring. Especially not by Caroline Forbes.

"That's strange because no one has sat in it ever since I've stepped foot in this place."

Quirking an eyebrow at her defiance to obey his unspoken order to sod off, Klaus Mikaelson smirked. "I take it you've been watching me," he phrased the words as a question, his heavily accented voice shaking her to the core. It possessed an undertone that sent shivers down her back. "Why?"

"I…" the blunt query rendered her momentarily speechless. Sure, she'd wanted to tell him, but now, face to face with him, she was worried about his reaction. In spite of that, she hadn't flown hundreds of miles to cower away from a challenge. "I had a favor to ask you," the mask of steel indifference hiding her feelings rather unsuccessfully.

"Did you now?"

That made it obvious: he was mocking her unwillingly projected vulnerability.

"Yes, actually I do, Klaus," she summoned the last reserves of strength her body possessed. "We've met before, in Mystic Falls, when you visited Stefan," Caroline didn't miss the way his jaw tightened or how he flinched slightly upon the mentioning of Stefan's name. Apparently, her lying, petty excuse of an ex-fiancée was a crack in Klaus's armor. It was duly noted in case she'd need to use it in the future.

"I'm aware. You were his girlfriend, Candy, or something like that."

It took all of her self-restraint to conceal her clenched fist and control the impulse to punch him in the face for associating her with a hooker's name. Tired, that's what she was: tired of men jeering at her. "It's Caroline Forbes, actually," she got out through gritted teeth. "Please," she bit her tongue and stomped all over her dignity by pleading with this man for anything. "Just hear me out."

"Sorry, like I said, not interested," and he waved her off like she was his servant. How dare he? If she wasn't in need of his assistance, this arrogant bastard would get a piece of her mind. Sadly, she had to continue to play nice, for now.

"It could help you get back at Stefan, in a way, for whatever he did to upset you so greatly." There it went- her best card was on the table. Playing on his hatred for Stefan was the only way he might consider helping her. After all, love and hate ruled over the world, two World Wars having had at their roots one of the two emotions.

Bingo! Her inner exclaimed when he leaned back in his chair, a devilish glint in his eyes. "I'm listening."

So she told him part of her story. Her engagement. Him cheating. The wedding invitation. Klaus listened intently and even showcased some emotion: the corners of his eyes wrinkled at the mention of Valerie and that oh, so beautiful scene in her apartment. Momentarily it made her feel like she was going in the right direction, but that was rapidly stomped on by his shift to indifference. "Sorry to interrupt your _tragic_ love story, but what exactly do you expect me to do, Juliet? Go and beat on your Romeo until he agrees to take you back?"

He was laughing at her. One of the saddest moments of her life and all Klaus Mikaelson could do were call her names and make fun of her. What an awful human being! On the other hand, he was the only man for the job. She had to say it now, or this meeting would go further down the rabbit hole.

"Pretend to be my boyfriend." Her attempt to cut to the chase was cringe worthy, dumb and childish even to her own ears. Like a scorned child who wanted to spite her parents. Jesus, this conversation was getting worse with every second.

"Excuse me?" he slightly raised his voice. "Why in the world would I want to do that?"

She had to salvage it while that was still an option. Not while, _if_ was a better choice for a word in the context of Klaus narrowing his grey eyes at her. His patience was clearly reaching its limit. "It would spite Stefan immensely. Think about it, you are the one person in the world which I've seen him openly dislike- he's too much of a do-gooder otherwise. Were I to turn at his wedding with you of all people as my date, he would most likely have a heart attack. Ruined, his wedding would be ruined." _And I wouldn't appear like a pathetic girl who is still holding on to her unrequited love, however true that might be,_ she bit her tongue to stop from adding.

This _had_ to convince him. No way was this man able to resist taking revenge on Stefan.

"No." Or apparently he was.

One syllable and Caroline's face fell, hope plummeting and cracking into a thousand shards. Even the appeal of fracturing Stefan's dreams hadn't been enough to pull him away from whatever was troubling him. "Why not?" disbelief laced her voice.

"I have no interest whatsoever to see the youngest Salvatore brother," resentment obvious as he spat out the last three words. "My business with him is done, Caroline. Just like yours should be, if you were smart enough to realize it."

Was that advice he was offering her? Or was he insulting her in a very veiled manner? If it was the former, he had a very patronizing way to do it. For once though, his tone was serious, all mockery set aside.

"Please," desperation seeped into her voice and it made her like she was begging. Which, honestly speaking, she kind of was. "Klaus, please reconsider this."

"No. That's my final word. You should go. Leave this town and never look for me again."

Clear authority radiated off him and left no room for further discussion although she yearned to say something more. "I'll go," she agreed. "But I'm staying in town for a few days at The Province Plaza. Find me, if you change your mind."

Caroline knew the odds of that happening were less than zero, but she had to let it out. A miracle might still happen. However, Klaus didn't dignify it with an answer, merely turned his attention back to the expensive whiskey and gulped down half a glass. She had been dismissed, that much was abundantly clear. Just as clear as the fact that Klaus Mikaelson had to polish his social skills and that she would need to come to grips with the idea of facing Stefan, his future wife and friends all alone. How humiliating and excruciatingly painful that would be. Moreover, her thirst to get back at Stefan, even if it was only by fake-dating his enemy, would not be quenched.

In dire need of something to make her forget, the blonde returned to the bar, where Melanie was expecting her.

"How did it go?"

Her chipper and innocent voice annoyed Caroline to no ends, but even she had to admit that none of her anger was due to Melanie and taking it out on her would be a petty thing to do.

"Horribly bad."

At that, Melanie offered the woman a glass filled to the brim with bourbon. "Sorry about that," she planted the entire bottle in front of Caroline. "It's on the house," was all she supplied before tending to another customer. Complying, Caroline got to work, one glass at a time, longing to consign to oblivion Stefan's unfaithfulness and Klaus's ridicule.

The pleasant buzz brought on by the strong spirit was beginning to take her mind off every single wounding thing, so she kept at it, her goal being blissful ignorance. And she was close to achieving it when Melanie took off the quarter-full container from the counter. "That's it! I'm cutting you off."

Outrage filled every bone in her body at Melanie's condescending tone. She had just met the woman. What gave her the right to talk to her like that? "No, you're not," she went to reach for the bottle under the bar.

"Caroline," Melanie sighed. "It's very late. Soon we'll be closing the bar and you should try to sober up before leaving the streets at night, in an unknown city," a glass of water was positioned in front of her.

Reluctantly, the blonde admitted the validity of her new friend's arguments, sipped some of the cold liquid and laid her head on the cold wood. She might be a little tipsy, but not as drunk as Melanie made her out to be. Now that she paid closer attention to her surroundings, she noted that the hum of the crowd had disappeared. Confused, she looked around and realized that only 5 other people had remained in the bar, and to her exasperation, Klaus was one of them. To add fuel to the fire, Melanie didn't look like she was cutting him off anytime.

Within 30 minutes everybody but her and Klaus had closed their tabs and went home. "Why haven't you cut him off yet?" she couldn't hold her curiosity anymore.

The black-haired woman hesitated. "I never do. He's always the last one to leave, always drinking more than one regular, healthy human should and remaining seemingly sober."

"That didn't answer my question, Melanie."

"I…" words were heavily weighed. "I respect him, I guess."

"Respect?" indignation and outrage overwhelmed Caroline Forbes. "What is there to respect in that vile, obnoxious excuse of a man?" The bartender's eyes grew the size of watermelons and the slightly drunk woman knew immediately why. Biting her lip, heat rising to her cheeks, she turned around and, sure enough, a tall silhouette towered over her, not sparing her a look.

"Here," he gave Melanie a fifty dollar bill. "Keep the change."

Caroline felt like she should say something, maybe apologize for downright insulting him, but her tongue refused to listen to those commands. All chances of him helping her out were erased from Earth by this occurrence, but keeping her last shred of dignity was just as important to her in this particular hop in life.

"That was rough," Melanie declared after the chime of the door announced Klaus's departure. "I've never heard anyone speak like that to Klaus before. I guess they are all too afraid," she added as an afterthought. "I'm surprised he didn't say anything to that. His temper tends to be quite volatile, especially these days."

"Well, he was rough with me too, believe me, he gave me a taste of that acerbity" the blonde defended her actions even though she knew that she'd overstepped some boundaries with him. Sure, he'd been sarcastic and completely unsympathetic to her pain, but never had he been uncivil with her. Come to think of it, she'd been a real bitch, something which hadn't been in her character since high-school. "I just really needed his help," she tried to justify her behavior. "I can't face them alone, you know?" warmth was welling in her eyes and Melanie was staring at her helplessly, probably wondering what to do with the messed-up drunk girl in the barstool who looked ready to lose it.

Ransacking her pockets for a few crumpled bills, Caroline threw them on the counter. "I should just go," she excused herself. "I'm sorry for the way I acted today. That's not me, I swear," upon standing the alcohol climbed to her head and she had to grab hold of the chrome back of the stool to keep from falling down. "I'll be in town for two more weeks. Maybe I'll come back."

"Two weeks, you said?"

"Yes, why?"

A devilish grin brightened Melanie's face. Combined with the glint in her eyes, it was clear even to a drunk Caroline that this was the face of someone plotting something. "I've been meaning to take a vacation, but couldn't find anyone willing to cover for me. Would you do it?"

The question dumbfounded Caroline. Be a bartender? She had no experience whatsoever in that domain and however temporary the job was, she was clearly not prepared for it. Her incoming decline must have been written all over her face because Melanie reinforced her request with a pair of sad, huge, brown eyes that would make Bambi jealous.

"Please, Caroline. It's only a few days. All you would have to do is serve a few drinks."

She was right. How hard could that be? After all, she was a surgeon for Christ's sake. Another advantage was that it would take her mind off distressing matters without ruining her liver in the process. She could feel herself giving in. "Ok, I'll try, but I can't guarantee customer satisfaction." This was one of those drunken decision one regretted in the morning, she was all aware, but something inside of her screamed to take the job.

"That's great!" Melanie jumped over to hug her. "Thank you! Thank you so much, you're a lifesaver! But there's something you need to know first."

Oh, God, here came the fine print. The one piece of reality that sent her reeling back to Mystic Falls. Maybe other services were included in the job description. Caroline shuddered at the mere thought of that.

"I'm sorry, it slipped my mind because I'm not so sure I believe in that sort of thing, but the locals say that this position is cursed."

To her inebriated mind that sounded even more ridiculous than a sober Caroline would have looked at it. Either way, it was bullshit she didn't believe in. "That doesn't worry me in the slightest, Melanie, "she laughed out loud.

"Caroline, I know how silly this sounds, but it's my moral duty to tell you that my two predecessors have tragically passed away at extremely young ages. One was murdered," the bartender added gloomily and it appeared like she wanted to add something, but changed her mind at the last minute.

As a doctor in the E.R, she'd witnessed hundreds of children and teenagers dying from freak accidents and people who'd suffered unimaginable injuries had somehow pulled through. It led her to believe that we all had our own faith and we were forced to wear it. No job had the power to take lives.

"That doesn't worry me in the slightest. It was all probably a terrible coincidence. Go," she motioned to the door mimicking a bird flying. "Go to Haiti or the Caribbean or Europe and enjoy your vacation. Caroline Forbes will hold down this fort for you."

Unexpectedly, Melanie jumped up in her arms, her happiness so great Caroline could feel it transcend into her own body. "Oh my God, I can't believe it. You're amazing, "she shrieked in her eardrum. "I'll be forever grateful for this." A key was placed inside her palm. "We open at eleven in morning. Cocktail recipes are under the counter if you need them. Thank you once again, Caroline, from the bottom of my heart."

"Don't worry about it. Just promise me you'll have fun."

After that, Caroline waited for Melanie to finish closing up the place, while listening to a never-ending slew of gratitude words. By the time they bid each other farewell, Caroline had learned to appreciate the silence, but a small part of her rejoiced at a small gesture of hers making someone that happy.

"Who knows, maybe you'll even convince Klaus to help you," Melanie winked before finally going home. Reality washed over Caroline. Klaus was a regular at Rousseau's. Every day, they would come face to face and things would be significantly more awkward after her intoxicated rant.

Maybe the job really was cursed after all.

Lamentably for the blonde, Klaus's presence represented the least significant danger of New Orleans and Rousseau's for her safety. Darker individuals loomed close and one wrong move could send them after her. A raven flew right over her head, its croaking sound startling her. The poor bird headed straight into a nearby window, a loud crashing sound followed by a streak of blood trickling down the glass.

Had Caroline believed in omens that would have been a threatening one.

A harbinger of death.


	3. Chapter 3

A pounding headache woke Caroline up, bouts of crippling nausea following suit. Sipping some water from the glass she'd purposefully left on the nightstand, she risked slightly turning her head to look out the window. Judging by the soft light entering her hotel room, it was safe to say that it was still early in the morning.

Queasiness hit again, this time uncontrollably, so the blonde ran to the bathroom, desperate not to puke all over the expensive, vintage carpet in the bedroom. She succeeded just barely, effectively purging out all the alcohol from her body. Resting her head against the cool seat of the toilet, Caroline hoped it would soothe her throbbing head, but to no avail because, like many high school parties had taught her, that was useless.

Desperate to alleviate her pain, the young woman crawled back into bed, nestling under the warmth of the covers and waited for sleep to claim her again.

And it did. Because the next time she woke, the sun was a giant fireball, reigning atop the sky, no cloud daring to shatter its sovereignty. Unfortunately, her head was still killing her, the blinding sunshine doing her no favors.

Hung-over. She was undoubtedly hung-over.

Squinting, she spared a glance at her phone, to check the time. A quarter past ten. Lord, she hadn't overslept this much in months. The events from last night started to replay in her mind. Searching for Klaus Mikaleson all over New Orleans, only to find him at a bar, soaking his liver in whiskey. Downright begging him to abide by her plan, his definite refusal and her poor choice of words regarding him. Then, her last decision washed over her like a tidal wave.

She'd agreed to be a bartender at Rousseau's for two weeks and her shift started in less than an hour. Why did she always end up in these sorts of situations? The sins from her previous life must have been terrible for her to continue paying at this point in her life.

Running out of bed, Caroline rushed to the kitchen, swallowed two aspirins and took a quick shower. Getting dressed was accomplished in record time: less than 10 minutes, and, forsaking breakfast, she ran to open the bar.

After all, it was bad form to be late on your first day; her first attending had drilled into her brain after she'd been fashionably late her first day at the hospital. The embarrassment had never permitted for her to be tardy at work.

Five minutes to eleven –that was the exact time she arrived at the bar. Following her arrangement of tables and chairs, Caroline went behind the counter, wondering what Melanie did while expecting customers. Taking out her phone, she tried to find an e-book to fill her down time and she did, but the tiredness hadn't fled her body. She needed something to wake her up. A warm beverage usually did the trick.

Ultimately, there was no way anyone came her for at least another two hours. I mean, who came at a bar at eleven in the morning? Confident that she would be alone, she started boiling some water and began to look for the place where Melanie kept her teabags. Frustration grew, as they were nowhere to be found and the quick motions of ransacking under the bar intensified her splitting migraine, which the painkillers hadn't reduced in the slightest.

To add salt to the wound, the bell rang announcing her first morning customer. God, she wanted to lift her head up and command him to leave, but she couldn't. This wasn't her business and her promise to Melanie to 'hold the fort', albeit drunken, was one she intended to keep.

Still, whatever weirdo or alcoholic had wondered into Rousseau's could wait for her to find a freaking teabag. It wasn't like she was asking for freaking Dom Perignon, was she? Annoyed, she threw another bag of decaffeinated coffee to the ground. Why was there so much bland, black poison and no tea, she grunted out loud.

"Is everything alright, Melanie?" the stray client cleared his throat. That voice. That British accented, commanding voice. She knew it all too well.

Her day really was going from bad to worse with every passing second. Of all the people in the world, it had to be Klaus freaking Mikaelson who walked into this joint.

Begrudgingly standing up, Caroline banged her head against the wooden surface of the counter. "Ouch," she mumbled quietly, rubbing the swollen spot- a painful bump was growing- and cursing her clumsiness for only intensifying her splitting headache. It felt like a rhino had literally stepped all over it and then called on his elephant friends to join the party.

"Can I help you?" she summoned all vestiges of politeness as she came up to stare into cerulean eyes which hardened at the sight of her.

"What are _you_ doing here?" disbelief led to a significantly louder vociferation.

Here goes nothing; Caroline steeled herself for another strong exchange between them. Only this time, she would not back down, should he insult her. It wasn't like he was considering going to Stefan's wedding as her fake-date. "I'm the new bartender."

Her simple yet all-encompassing answer sent Klaus for a spin. "What?" he managed to ask, in an out of character incoherent way.

The fact that she had been able to shock him caused her to smirk, her inner self doing a perfect somersault: one point for Caroline, zero for Klaus.

"I think I was clear enough, but I'll expand on my answer, to enlighten you, Mr. Mikaleson," she spat out the name with contempt, noting the way he tensed at it. Her anger appeared to have an effect on him. Two points Caroline, she awarded contently. "Melanie's on a short vacation so you're stuck with me. Can I get you anything?"

If he was still affected by her attitude, it didn't show. "I'll have a glass of your best whiskey." Turning around, he headed for the same isolated table as yesterday. "Oh, and Caroline," he went to face her again, smug smile in place. "You can find tea in the back and be careful, your water's nearly on fire."

What? She glanced at the kettle and found the crystal liquid to be indeed well over its boiling temperature, some of it having evaporated already. Even its recipient had begun to melt. How had he known she was making tea?

Two points to Klaus, she had to mentally grant. Pulling the teapot from the flame, to avoid a run-in with the Fire Department, she poured the remaining content in a cup and proceeded to search the storage area, where, true to form, she found boxes of Earl Grey and a few other mouth-watering fruit infusions. Taking some with her and placing them within reaching distance of her position at the bar, Caroline eyed all the bottles of amber liquid to decide which was the best so it could be served to her customer.

In the end, she gave up and chose to fill a tumbler with the one she remembered from last night. Not like they were that different that one could taste, right?

"There you go," the drink was nearly thrown in front of Klaus's face. "Anything else I can get for you?"

He shook his head, words apparently too precious to be wasted on her. Shrugging in response, she went back to her thankfully still warm tea, ready to enjoy it. Klaus Mikaelson would not ruin another one of her days. Focusing on her Kindle app, Caroline immersed herself in the sinister world of Stieg Larsson. Page upon page, she was drawn into a dark atmosphere, with a serial killer more insane than one could imagine, terrorizing the characters. A knot formed in her stomach at the brutal rape the female protagonist endured, bile returning to her mouth. How someone could be capable of such a vile thing still puzzled her.

"Excuse me, Blondie, can I have some service here?" a rude voice yelled, forcefully yanking her from the rural, snowed in cities of Sweden.

Sure enough, another table had been occupied by one more early-drinker. A raven haired man with black eyes was sneering at her, the corners of his lips turned down. His clothes were used and slightly unkempt- to put it lightly. Overall, his appearance didn't fill her with confidence, since her curse, as her friends liked to call it, was to attract the unwanted attention of all kinds of weirdoes and creeps.

Well, you're just going to have to suck it in, Caroline. For Melanie.

Making a show of slowly and deliberately putting the phone down, the temporary bartender walked to her newest customer. "What can I bring for you?" using some of her renowned bedside manner, she even plastered a big smile.

"I'll have a piece of you," he jeered at her, obsidian fixating on her chest.

Great, Caroline wanted to roll her eyes. Another crazy freak who wanted to hit on her. "Yeah, sure," he was actually starting to smile at her. Poor delusional bastard. "That will happen at around a quarter to never," his leer evaporated just as quickly as it'd appeared. "Now, if you aren't going to actually order anything, the door is that way."

Anger replaced previous excitement. Narrowed black slits attempted to intimidate her, but Caroline stared him down impassively. "I'll have a beer," he relented and… was that fear she saw in his eyes? She knew she could be quite intimidating, but never to this extent. Maybe something else had changed his mind about starting a direct confrontation with Caroline. But the only other human being there was Klaus and he couldn't care less about what happened to her, right?

After slapping down the beer, Caroline risked a glance at her rough client. Klaus was busy looking out the window, inspecting the people hurrying down the streets on their relentless quests for money, love or success. Clearly he had been oblivious to the brief confrontation that had transpired at Rousseau's. A shake of the head was followed by a disbelieving smile at the pure idiocy that Klaus might have intervened to help her.

Out of the blue, his head snapped in her direction. She felt like a deer caught in headlights. She'd been shamelessly fixating him. "I'd like another," he beckoned at her.

Another what? She wanted to ask, but took a second to try and figure it out herself. Once he started to flutter his empty glass in her direction impatiently, she felt like a huge idiot. A refill. Obviously, that was what he'd been referring to.

Grabbing the bottle of his liquor of choice, she strutted to him and effectively filled the tumbler halfway. "Isn't it a little early to be drinking this much of the heavy stuff?" her tongue ran before consulting with the brain.

His jaw clenched at her question, pensive eyes returning to staring out the window. Caroline could have left, that long was he silent for, but something kept her rooted although an answer didn't appear to be coming.

"It's way too late and not nearly enough liquor," he contemplated cryptically, mostly to himself, head still turned away from her, effectively sheltering any display of betraying emotion, if there was any.

Late for what? The question burned in her mouth, but she refrained from uttering it. Neither were they buddies to be sharing their pasts, nor would he be willing to, she was sure.

"Call me a naïve girl, but I don't think it's ever too late for anybody or anything."

And she left, leaving him with that food for thought, missing the way glossed over eyes followed her until she reached the stool behind the bar, casting a warning look at the impolite man who, as a result, gulped and threw some money on the table before proceeding to the exit.

 _I'm afraid it is for me, Caroline._

* * *

Numerous clienteles came and left the bar, no other problems ensuing. The one constant remained Klaus, who was already on his fifth straight whiskey and who appeared to have no intention of going away. What was wrong with this man? Why was he subjecting his body to this sort of torture every day? What sins did he believe he was atoning for? What was it too late for? Well, whatever it was, she was way too busy to concentrate on it.

Being a bartender really was hard, her respect for the job stood renewed. All of that running from table to table, all the while struggling to put together some Margaritas and Vodka Martinis- a significantly harder feat than one could imagine. The only upside was that her headache was slowly, but steadily going away.

In no time, lunch hour rolled by, her hunger awakened. A dilemma rose. How was one supposed to eat in a place that served no food and possessed no kitchen? A restaurant flew out the door too because there was no way she could close the bar to grab a bite to eat. Too unprofessional for Caroline to even consider.

Salvation presented itself in the form of a few take-out brochures stocked in a neat pile near the small refrigerator. Settling on a pizza, greasy food always a good remedy for hangovers, a traitorous idea grew. And when that happened, there was no quelling it.

One other person had spent nearly as much time cooped up in this establishment as her. Admittedly, his was a voluntary stay while hers one owed to commitment. Before she could change her mind, she'd dragged her sneaker clad feet to Klaus Mikaelson's table.

Now, looking at him, with an Italian restaurant's brochure clasped tightly in her palm, Caroline willed her mouth to work and break the awkward silence. "I was wondering if you'd like anything to eat," she extended the piece of paper to him, making herself look like a blundering idiot.

His eyebrows rose. "What? Caroline, what's going on?" He sounded just as confused as she felt.

If only she could answer that, but truthfully, she had no clue. All she knew was that he'd appeared somewhat sad behind his emotionlessly cold façade and an unexplainable urge to do something for him had slowly mounted. But now, a feeling that her presence invaded his personal space and annoyed him was bugging her. Especially when taking into account his reaction, so she was slowly backtracking.

"I was sitting there, hungry as hell and I realized that you might want some food too. After all, one can't live only on alcohol. I mean, I understand if you don't and I'm probably overstepping my boundaries, as it is. You made it perfectly clear last night that you don't want anything to do with me, and I get it, but" her incessant nervous rambling was interrupted by a chuckle.

Oh God, he was laughing at her again. Somehow, all she could do around him was either make a fool of herself or appear completely immature and obnoxious. She didn't know which was worse. Heat rose to her checks, creating a rosy hue, to her growing embarrassment.

"Breathe," he smartly suggested. "I'll have whatever you're having," he pulled her out of her self-induced misery, cracking a minute smile at her.

"You will?" Caroline could not believe her ears. Reading her mind, he nodded and it only served to make her flush further, this time from excitement.

He'd accepted her olive branch. It felt like victory, like a truce of sorts between two people who'd initially despised each other. Now, studying him with more or less unbiased eyes, Caroline could admit that he wasn't entirely repulsive although his character still needed serious polishing. Sandy blonde hair cast some light on his otherwise pretty dangerous aura, softening it, dark liquid mercury orbs resembled those of someone who held the weight of the world on his tired, sagging shoulders and let's not forget about the dimples in his cheeks. They granted some boyish charm, making him seem younger, freer. Like she knew he wasn't.

Okay, not repulsive at all, she was compelled to admit.

When her order of two Quattro Formaggi pizzas arrived at Rousseau's, she deposited them on Klaus's table, scanned the room to see if any customer needed attention and, when satisfied that they were all properly attended, grabbed a bottle of white wine, sitting down in the chair facing Klaus.

"I thought one wasn't supposed to drink on the job," he poked fun while biting into a slice of parmesan covered pizza.

"Oh, please cut me some slack. With the months I've had recently, I should be drinking as heavily as you, if not more." There he was, trying to make her laugh, put behind their animosity and she had to put her foot in her mouth, dampening their mood. They had been intended as a joke, but her words weighed pretty heavily. Not once had she said he had a drinking problem, but he was walking a tightrope and a burning pit awaited should he lose balance. Therefore, it wasn't a subject to be made fun of and judging by his quiet demeanor he agreed.

When he finally did reply, it was with a note of loathing addressed either at a third party, himself or both. "No one should be drinking as much as me. I know that, but…" he cut himself off and gulped down half of his glass of wine, proving his point.

She wanted to ask him what went wrong with his life for him to take such a dark path. Drinking yourself slowly to death had to be rock bottom for someone as poised and proud as Klaus Mikaelson. She'd built enough of her bravery to do just that when a prissy looking woman, who'd come here for her bachelorette party asked for a round of Cosmopolitans.

"It had to be a freaking cocktail. I swear, these concoctions are going to kill me in two weeks," she pondered for a few moments. "Unless I kill the customers first." A wink added more humor to her recent idea.

For the second time in such a short interval, he snickered at her silly antics, rattled that someone he'd barely met could make him have genuine fun.

" _You're not worthy of it,"_ a powerful voice screamed it his head, reminding him briefly of who he was. Today. He'd only grant himself today.

She'd be gone by tomorrow and order would be restored to New Orleans and his life.

Caroline, on the other hand, had nothing else in mind but her job as she walked slowly towards another excruciating task. Ruffling the pages of recipes, she finally found the requested beverage. It required Vodka- check, Cranberry juice-check, Lime juice-check and Triple Sec- which she had no idea what it was. Gosh, her years as a med-student and as a surgical resident had really left their mark on her liquor knowledge. Looking at the rows of bottles, she finally laid eyes on a label that claimed Blue Triple Sec. It had to be the same, right? It's not like it came in all of the colors of the rainbow.

Desperate to return to her pizza, she threw all of the ingredients in a shaker and mixed them. The result was a disgustingly blue drink. Well, if the clients demands it, who is she to say no? Shrugging, she prepared the glasses and even garnished them with a lemon peel slice, like the book ordered. No sooner was she preparing to serve them then her eyes fell on some tiny words at the back of the page.

 _The drink should be a frothy bright pink color._

Pink?! Hers was as blue as the summer sky!

Groaning, she wanted to bang her head on the counter. Every single step in that recipe had been followed, and yet even the color differed. Stopping massive internal bleeding was easier than putting together a _Cosmopolitan_.

"Having trouble in bartender paradise?" Klaus sneaked up on her.

"Paradise?Hell, this is hell," she sharply put the appalling cocktail in front of him. "It's blue, freaking blue!"

One glance down and Klaus burst out laughing. "That's a Cosmopolitan? I've got to hand it to you, Caroline, you're in a league of your own. Never have I seen a more foul looking drink."

"Stop making fun of me," her voice raised in annoyance. "I did everything the book told me to. I added vodka, lime and cranberry juice and even the damned blue triple sec."

"You added blue Curacao to a Cosmopolitan?" his laughs got even louder. She didn't answer, but crossed her hands over the chest trying not to giggle with him. In spite of being left out of the joke, a surge of happiness was impossible to stave off. A ray of light had entered through the miniature cracks in his armor. Proudly, she kept composed and all that escaped was an upwards tug of her lips. "That," he pointed to an orange looking bottle, "is what you should have used instead of the blue liquor."

Covering her shame with sassiness at mistaking even the bottle, "Thank you, Mr. Drink-Savvy. If I'm ever in doubt again I shall ask your royal drink highness to rescue me," and she proceeded to remake the Cosmopolitans, not before swearing to never even taste this tiresome cocktail.

After that, they both returned to his table and finished their surprisingly heated pizzas in pleasant silence. However, her break was short lived because, soon, duty called and she had to prepare some Long Island Iced Teas which, my sheer miracle, she didn't botch.

By the time closing hour approached, Caroline could not feel the soles of her feet because of the blisters that covered them. Still at his table, Klaus was sipping the last tumbler of whiskey for the night. Even though she could barely move, her refusal to hand him the bottle to polish off hadn't budged.

It was pitch black outside, but the only other person beside her at Rousseau's was still gazing out into the streets. How he saw anything beat her. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, muscles tightly coiled, knuckles clenching the crystal glass. Had he spotted something to elicit this reaction? Curiosity prompted her to close the distance between them and study the same spot as he was outside. There was a figure, clouded in darkness standing on the street parallel to the bar, his face indiscernible.

"He's probably just waiting for a cab or someone to pick him up," her voice startled Klaus who quickly turned to look at her. Uneasiness rested in his eyes and he returned to gaze at the otherwise void of life New Orleans. True to her words, the man –she assumed her was a man- climbed into a black SUV and sped away. "See? He's gone," she willed herself to sound more cheery than she felt.

Klaus nodded, but his spine remained unnaturally straight, like a predator stalking for its victim. "I'm closing the bar," she declared.

That got his attention. Reaching inside his pocket, he handed her a hundred dollar bill. Wordlessly, she went for the cash register to get his change, oblivious to him following her and stopping merely a meter behind her.

"Here," she handed some crumpled banknotes to him which he promptly refused. Was he tipping her 65 bucks? "This is too much," frowning she tried to return it to him again.

"It's a tip for the outstanding service." She was about to argue again, but he was too fast. "Consider it me paying you back for the pizza."

"The pizza was on me, and I'm pretty sure my service is anything but outstanding, blue Cosmopolitan can attest to it." Complaining came as second nature to the feisty blonde, but one pointed look at Klaus and she knew this fight was lost. With him, one had to know how to pick the battles and this one was forfeited by pocketing the money. "Next time, your drinks are on the house," her stubborn side had to add so he wouldn't get the satisfaction of completely winning, even if that was essentially what had transpired .

"Next time?" he overlooked the other part of the sentence, but Caroline had a feeling that accepting her offer would turn into another argument.

"Yes, I'll be here for two weeks, enjoying the perks of being a bartender." Darkness shrouded his face. Was that anger she could read? What had she done this time to upset him? She'd even taken his goddamned tip to avoid a clash between two very strong personalities with equally shorter fuses. "What's wrong with that? Am I so annoying to you that you can't even stand me for a couple of weeks?" However much she tried to mask it, hurt seeped into her voice. She'd actually thought they were getting along. A few more days and she'd consider him a friend.

Way to go, Caroline! Always too easily trusting others and winding up being the idiot of the story, she mused to herself.

"It's not that," her hope was renewed. "This town, it's dangerous, especially working at this bar."

"Oh, you mean the famous curse Melanie told me about?" she laughed it off. "I don't believe in that sort of thing."

A storm brewed behind his ocean eyes, Caroline could tell he had some choice words directed at her for treating this lightly, but come on! He didn't appear like the kind of guy who would bend ear to such ludicrous superstitions. People hurt other people, not a town, bar or job.

"You should. Genuinely good people have fallen victims to this place," _to being around me,_ he refrained from adding. One glance it her forest eyes and he knew she wasn't going to bend over backwards to obey him, like all others. "You're not going to heed my warnings are you?"

"Nope, but I appreciate your concern."

He shook his head, sighing to control his anger. "At least let me accompany you to your hotel. It's very late."

Chivalrous. That was the right word to describe Klaus's behavior. Completely the opposite of how she'd first perceived him. Sure, he was shut off from the world, but not entirely evil as he wished others to believe. Be it well-intended, the offer to walk with her injured her pride. A man wasn't needed to survive. Proof to that stood her years of making it on her own before Stefan.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll be fine. Yesterday it was even later at night, I was slightly drunk and I made it safely back. There's no need to trouble yourself." It was a polite refusal, but her tone left no room for arguing. This was a battle she would win. Her independence will not be fragmented by anybody.

"Caroline," a magnifying glass turned to her, searching for any weaknesses in her adamancy. He found none. "Just be careful. No dark alleys, no shortcuts. Not while you're in New Orleans, working here, talking and eating to me."

Confusion awakened instantly after those last five words. "What does talking to you have to do with this city being dangerous? Klaus, what's truly going on here?"

"Nothing that concerns you," resolute irises dared to pursue this line of enquiry. And she would have, had it not been for the sadness hidden behind layers of fake indifference. "Just do as I told you," with that he was out of the door before her paralyzed brain could send any nervous impulses.

One last glance, to ensure everything was in order at Rousseau's and that the back door was tightly bolted, Caroline exited into the crisp night air. No car passed by and no signs of any human life reached her.

Silence enveloped her.

Not even a house light dared to break the cycle of darkness. This part of the French Quarter appeared abandoned. Even the sound made by her Converse appeared deafening.

Last night she'd been drunk enough not to notice, but tonight, these streets were giving her the creeps. Maybe it was also Klaus's insistence that walking this late was dangerous, but a bad feeling was edging in.

Picking up her pace, all Caroline wanted was to reach the hotel that now appeared miles away. By divine intervention, a shortcut she'd taken in the morning came into view. It would effectively cut the distance in half. The one downside? It was poorly lit, sheltered from civilization, specifically the type of road that Klaus had warned against.

Well, he wasn't here and never needed to find out about what she'd done. Besides, her heart could not take any more of this tension. A warm bath and her bed awaited and Caroline Forbes could never deny these two.

So she took the timesaving route.

Ten minutes had gone by, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred and she'd managed to calm herself. Everything was fine; Klaus had just been overreacting and causing panic without reason.

That precise moment was when she heard heavy footfalls behind her. The kind that people made when they wanted you to know they were behind you.

Not daring to look, Caroline increased her pace. The person at her back did the same. The hallowed echoes got stronger and stronger with each second. Fear and adrenaline spiked and the blonde started to literally run. Even if all that turned out to be behind was a drunken hobo, Caroline wouldn't take any chances.

A malicious cackle reached her ears. Someone was laughing at her for sprinting ahead. It prompted her to slightly bend her head and see the person behind her.

The light was too dim to make out a face, but judging by how tall and well-built the silhouette was, Caroline deduced it was a man. He seemed eerily familiar and that's when it hit her.

The same man that had been in front of Rousseau's. The one that had worried Klaus and whose presence she'd shaken off had followed her into a deserted back road. Increasing the rhythm of her scampering, a bifurcation appeared, so she took what she remembered as the right path.

An even louder sinister snicker.

Within moments she could see precisely why. Terror must have confused her into picking the wrong route because a dead end lay before her. A cement wall with two dumpsters on each side and mountains of garbage bags piled near them.

She should have listened to Klaus. Or at least allowed him to come with her instead of being Miss I'm-too-proud-and-independent.

Heavy treads announced that the man had reduced the distance between them. Caroline looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon but came up empty. Barely had she lifted her had when the figure appeared.

A long coat andjeans the color of charcoal hid any distinctive features. He took a deliberately small step towards her and she involuntarily took one back. They continued this dance until her back hit the cold wall.

Trapped. She was trapped with no way to escape. He could do whatever he wanted to her and no one would know.

Suddenly, his hand went to his belt. Muscles tight, Caroline waited to see why. The answer made the hairs on the back of her head stand.

A silver glint under the pale, moon that had just emerged from its cloudy prison. Caroline knew what it was immediately.

A knife.

The hypothesis of it being an innocent, harmless person were flying outside the window. This man wasn't joking. He'd come after her prepared to kill.

 _The curse really is real_ , was her final thought before he came close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her skin, soiling it.

 _He's going to kill me._


	4. Chapter 4

_9 Months Ago_

"I'll see you tomorrow," the blonde bartender bid farewell to her last customer of the day: Klaus Mikaelson.

He lingered in the doorway, appearing to wish to say something, but hesitating. Months ago, he'd been the weird newcomer who shrouded himself in an air of danger. Fear ensued everywhere he went, but she'd never felt it. A part of her had somehow known he wouldn't hurt her unless provoked and that was not something she'd wanted to do. Always speaking her mind in his presence, an unexpected friendship had slowly built. Now, there was no denying that a spark had been ignited between them. More so, he was slowly opening up to her, allowing her to see the man beneath.

And she liked what she was seeing.

Eyeing him expectantly, the woman was not surprised to find him backing down. The wounds from his past were still too deep.

"As shall I," he nodded and left Rousseau's and her feeling quite disappointed.

Cleaning after drunken idiots was proving harder when she couldn't take her mind off Klaus and whatever it was that he'd held back. Not like she hoping for a confession, but something, anything would have been preferable to those dry three words. That was precisely why she went home later than usual. Having lived for years in New Orleans, walking alone at night wasn't an issue despite the streets in the French Quarter being known as dangerous.

Besides, she wasn't an easy woman to scare.

Not having a better paid job meant that you could not afford an apartment in a residential area. So, she lived in a cramped one-bedroom found at the end of a small alley in which the street lights did not even work anymore. Her neighbors, most likely drug addicts could not care less about it though, and nobody listened to her complaints about fixing it. It was like talking to a stone. Still, something was different from the other nights. She could feel it. And see it soon enough.

 _Tough it out, it's probably nothing_ , she willed herself to continue her stride unaffected by the tall man clad in black that had appeared in front of her. Advancing, she expected him to go on his own way, but none of that happened. Instead, he continued to stare at her.

As if he was waiting for her.

No, that was absurd, she shook her head, it was just paranoia speaking. Walking alone in this part of the city had managed to rattle her deeply. Her gut screamed that something did not bode well, but she chose to ignore it. Huge mistake.

Now that she was closer, the blonde could see him better. He appeared young, in his early thirties maybe, had cold, inexpressive black eyes and full lips tugged into a smirk. Maybe it was the evil glint in his orbs or how he nonchalantly reached into his pockets, but a shiver ran down her spine.

Five meters. That was all that separated them.

Holding her breath, she walked past him, breathing out a sigh of relief when he remained unmoving.

Her reprieve was short-lived though, because no sooner had she taken three steps, than a cold hand clamored on her wrist. Suddenly, she was yanked hard and pressed against a wall. The impact knocked out all the air from her lungs, bruises already forming on her back. Both of her arms were held in a vicious grip above her head. Struggling, she concentrated all of her strength into breaking free, but it was impossible.

Heart pounding, she turned her head towards her attacker. Hate was embedded deep into his coal eyes, but that didn't make any sense whatsoever –she had never seen him before.

Something cold was held against her neck and she risked a look. It made her blood run cold.

A knife. Pressed to her skin. Pushing lightly, enough to cause pain.

"Who are you?" She rasped out. "What do you want from me?" Gladly would she give up all of her belongings if that was what the man was after.

A traitorous voice at the back of her head screamed that she couldn't be further from the truth. No answer came, but the blade pushed deeper into her skin, a slim trail of coppery liquid starting to flow. "Please," she begged.

A maniacal laugh was his only response to her imploring. The knife abandoned that spot and rolled down her collar bone. Swiftly it cut off the sleeve of her blouse. The blonde whimpered as frozen fingers touched her.

"That's right," he hissed in her ear. "Beg for me, cry for me. Like she did."

She? Who was he talking about? The woman wanted to ask, but her voice failed her.

Another snicker and her blouse rolled to the pavement after he'd slashed the other sleeve, leaving her in nothing but her bra. She trembled from fear, cold and disgust brought on by hands running up and down her body. Swiveling her head, she tried to go to a comforting place in her mind, to drown out the man's incessant and groping.

Tears had started to roll down her cheeks, but they only served to satisfy him. "Stop," she sobbed. "Don't, please."

Momentarily he listened. His fingers stilled and the knife returned to her throat. "It could be over. One thrust and this will be over." It was clear to her that he was contemplating killing her. The bartender longed to beg for her life, but it would do no good. All she'd accomplish was put an end to her respite. Fury returned to his face. "She didn't have that. She suffered, just like you'll do now."

The blade embedded itself into her abdomen. A shallow cut altogether, but it sent waves of pain. Another cut followed suit. Then another.

He was carving into her as if she was a piece of meat. Dizziness was knocking on her door. If she didn't do anything, death was unavoidable. With her last bit of strength, bravery and resolve, she tried to push him off her, but he didn't budge.

What followed was an even deeper slice across her chest.

"Why are you doing this?"

Her question staunched his assault. It sent him spiraling back to the past, obsidian eyes glossed over. Suffering was clearly on his mind. "So he can feel what I felt."

There was no denying it. He was insane and not making any sense. Even more crazed than before, he stuck the jagged blade into her lower abdomen, twisting it. That far it went, that she could feel the tip of the handle enter her body. Channeling all of his hatred, he pulled it out, leaving a gaping hole behind.

Having finished, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. Without his support, the woman crumbled to the floor, hands clutching at the deepest of her wounds, ignoring the multitude of other lacerations. No longer interested in her, the man took out his cellphone and called someone. It took thirty seconds for that person to answer. She counted to help keep conscious.

"Hello, old friend," he mockingly greeted. His face twisted in a mask of loathing and resentment. "I'd forgotten how wonderful New Orleans was," whoever was on the phone appeared to say something, but her assailant wasn't going to allow it. "And the women here, beautiful, especially the bartenders. You would know, though, wouldn't you? Gorgeous ones always gravitated towards you. And you always ended up destroying them."

Who was he talking to? Pain and weakness were trying to take over, to wrestle her into unconsciousness, but she refused. She would be brave and look him in her eye as life seeped from her body. Defiance was the last thing he'd remember of her, she swore.

"I'm outside her house. I'd hurry if I wanted to see her alive," the warning seemed to amuse him as he cackled before closing the phone.

Help was on the way. All she had to do was hold on and wait. Gathering her wits, the blonde applied pressure on her stomach, desperate to staunch the blood flow, but that was an impossible mission. A miniature pool of burgundy had formed beneath her. Had it not been for the wall's support, she would be swimming in it. She'd expected him to leave, his work now here following the conversation, but he surprised her once again, by staying in place.

Minutes trickled by and all the man did was look at her. Saving her energy, she refused to even look at him. The satisfaction of watching her slip away was not something she would grant him.

Eventually, a black car sped by, the sound of someone hitting the brakes hard reached her. She knew that car all too well. So that was who he had been talking to. The man next to her must have recognized it too, because he tightened his grip on the knife, knuckles white, muscles tense.

None other than Klaus ran out of the car, stopping as soon as he caught sight of her. Immediately he hurried to her, ignoring the raven haired man on her left. "Klaus," she whimpered weakly. He cradled her in his arms, pressing down on her injury. The gesture allowed her to let go, hands dropping to the concrete, resting.

"You will pay for this," he finally addressed the man, mercury irises burning a hole in her attacker. "I'll kill you. Tear you apart limb by limb and watch you bleed out while imploring for mercy."

This version of Klaus was quite frightening. Never before had she seen him so enraged. Still, it seemed not to affect the other man in the slightest. All he did was laugh in Klaus's face.

"You could try," he started to put distance between them. "But then you'd lose her last moments. Your choice: vengeance or love," he pondered briefly. "I'm giving you more than I ever had, Klaus, a chance to say goodbye. I'd take it."

With that, he carelessly turned his back and began to walk away. "Remember," he stopped in his tracks. "Everyone who approaches you with more than terror and disgust will suffer the same as her. Should someone ever look at you with something resembling affection and I'll be there to take them from you. Like I lost _her,_ because of you and your deranged family."

Then he was gone.

Klaus didn't waste a second. He called an ambulance, barking at them to hurry up. "Klaus," she whispered his name again. Green eyes connected with angry grey ones and, like always, she saw straight through his façade. He was hurt, suffering just as much as she was. Or more.

"Don't talk," he chided with gentleness she'd never believed him capable of. "Save your forces. Help is on its way."

"We both know that will do me no good." By now, pain had left her body, giving way to numbness, but didn't tell him. All it would do was help him venture more into despair land. She knew the end was on its way and that was enough. "I just," she had to stop to take a shallow breath. "I just want you to know that this isn't your fault." Klaus shook his head in disapproval. "You can't blame yourself for this, Klaus." Yet she knew that he would.

A weak hand rested on his cheek. "Promise me, Klaus, that you'll find a way to be happy…" she coughed up crimson. Salty, betraying drops began to fall, but the woman didn't have the power to wipe them. "Don't allow me to become a shadow that haunts you for the rest of your life. Promise me that," desperation laced her voice.

"I promise," he reluctantly agreed. That's how she knew that he was aware that she didn't have another tomorrow. Otherwise he would have stood his ground and refused. It made the situation more real for her too.

Her life .All of her plans for the future. They'd all crumbled to the ground. Nothing. There was nothing she'd accomplished. Nothing remarkable that others would remember. She'd forever be the brave bartender who died a pitiful, cowardly death.

"Funny how all of my life I've run from failure and now, at the end, I realize I failed at everything. My family, my brother, at my job and you," a pause was necessary to regain her breath and swallow the metallic taste in her mouth. "I failed you in so many ways."

"Don't ever say that you failed me," he sternly spoke. "You brought me back to life, made me feel more than hatred, made me wish to be more than what my father turned me into. Someone better, worthy of a person like you. Instead, my past mistakes led us here," self-loathing coming through strongly.

"I don't regret a thing. Even if this is the end. My time with you was precious and should I go back in time, I would choose not to change anything. I love you, Klaus Mikaelson," black spots appeared in the corner of her vision. "Everything you said- it wasn't because of me. There's light…" she trembled and more blood rolled down her lips. "Light inside of you, I've seen it. Don't let this extinguish it. Never allow that."

She was so pale. Warm liquid continued to spill through his fingers and with it, her time. Where was the ambulance? Even to someone who wasn't a doctor, it was obvious that she didn't have much time. And she could not go before she knew. "I love you too, Camille," Klaus uttered words he hadn't said in years, stumbling over them. A brief smile graced the woman's face before she closed her eyes. "Don't," he lightly shook her body. "Stay with me! Please, stay with me," he downright begged. "Don't leave," he brokenly wept. "Just hold on a little longer." He wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

Camille tried to listen, opened her eyes to small slits and mustered a weak smile. Stamina had almost completely left her body. Nothing could help her now, she knew it. At least she was at peace to have seen him once more before dying. "The pain is gone now," she reassured him.

His eyes were swimming in unshed tears, but he forced a happy expression on his face. "It will be over soon. You will go to a place where sadness doesn't exist, a place where you can be at peace, Camille. I'll meet you there shortly."

With her last energy, she glanced at him. His face was covered by a heavy fog, but even so, Camille could see that he was crying. "No, not shortly," her voice reached a barely audible level. "Live a long, joyful life. Find someone else, someone better and love them even more than you did me."

Eyelids slipped closed. Two deep struggles for breath. Then it ceased entirely.

Klaus was left hugging an unmoving body. No air was coming in or out. She was gone and he knew it. But he couldn't let go.

A sorrowful scream echoed in the night, disturbing its peace. It left his throat sore, yet felt like not enough to unload all of the anguish inside.

He didn't know how long he stood there, just rocking back and forth, palm caressing Camille's cheeks and praying for a miracle. For God to listen, return to Earth and innocent soul. He would heartily switch place. Of course, nothing happened and he remained in that dark corner, crying for the first time in years. The wail of an ambulance finally reached him. Too late. They were too late. Rage returned to him. He hadn't felt this powerless since _his_ death.

When the doctors arrived, they forcefully pulled her out of him arms and attempted CPR. Pointless, he knew that all too well. Standing up, he watched as her body shook under the compressions, but her eyes remained shut. Half an hour later, the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance, a sheet covering her face. He was asked whether he wanted to accompany her, but he denied. He needed some time away from the world. Forsaking his car, he took a walk to clear his head. Everybody was staring at him and he knew why. Blood had soaked his white shirt, turning it a deep crimson. His hand clutched the matted piece of fabric.

Camille O'Connell.

The only things left of her –blood, memories and an empty promise to be happy- as if that was possible. All that remained for him was vengeance. Against anyone who'd hurt the people close to him. It was a path he'd been running away from. Death brought only death after it, but now he didn't care anymore. Why should he? The ones in his former inner circle hadn't. They'd betrayed him countless times.

By the time he reached his house, he knew one other thing: there was no way that he would allow anyone close again. Enough persons had suffered because of him. Good people who were so much more worthy of this life than he was.

No more.

The heartless monster everyone, even his family, feared was back. When he found Lucien Castle, he would pay for what he did to Camille. And he would find him. There was no rock big enough under which he could crawl.

Of that Klaus was sure.

* * *

 ** _A/N Firstly, I would like to thank every single one of the people who took the time to add my story to their favourite/follow list and to leave a review. You guys are awesome, you motivate me to bring a new chapter quicker and to strive to make it as good as possible for you. Now, I know I had promised there would be no Camille, but she was necessary for the progress of the story. I promise that she is gone for good, though. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter too, so let me know what you though of it!_**


	5. Chapter 5

Staring death in the eye is something all humans fear. Since being children, that precise fear is deeply ingrained within. Some consider themselves immune, but the truth is that when it does happen, when the end does come knocking on your door, it is natural to be scared.

Caroline was starting to understand that.

Priding herself on not fearing anything, the disturbing realization that everything could be gone in the blink of an eye made her come to grips with her own mortality. And with her own fear.

A total stranger was two steps away from her, wielding a knife and appearing more than ready to use it. Nothing but a wall and a deserted street lay before her. Fight or fly- those were her options. Both made impossible by current circumstances. Where would she run in a city where she knew nobody and the streets were a maze? And how could she face an armed man twice her size?

Losing was equally imminent in both situations.

So she chose the one that fit her character best: fight. At least she'd go down with dignity and courage. That being decided, the woman finally looked in her assailant's eyes. What she could glimpse made her shudder.

Darkness enveloped irises the color of the night, pure rage embedded deep within the realms of his heart. That was all she could see. Enough to know that making it through the night was highly unlikely.

The man took another step in her direction. Her breath caught in her throat, but showing even an ounce of surrender equaled the last curtain call for her. Narrowing her eyes, straightening her spine, the blonde defiantly addressed him: "Who are you?"

"None of your business," he chuckled. "Besides, I'm the one who will be asking the questions here."

An alarm bell rang in her head at the tone with which he spoke. It was like he was a lion toying with his prey, but she could not back down. Keep him talking long enough, someone might pass by. Someone could still save her, she refused to think otherwise. She had not come this far for it to be over like this. It was unacceptable.

"Well, Mr. I'm-none-of-your-business, I demand to know what you want from me!"

Honestly, she was quite proud for keeping her voice infused with confidence, shielding the nerves. Appearing put-together and resilient might help rattle her attacker. Not like she would ever cower, resembling a scared mouse, anyhow.

A full-blown sadistic laugh followed her question. "You're brave, I'll give you that," he pondered his next sentence. "I want to see you suffer, cry and beg like no one has before. I want to punish _him_."

Who was he talking about? Oh God, please don't let this be a psychopathic serial killer escaped from prison or some paranoid schizophrenic vanished from an asylum, she prayed. In those scenarios, her survival odds plummeted to a resounding zero. "Look," she began steadily, trying to talk some sense into him. "I don't live in New Orleans, I barely know two people here and certainly none of them deserve your punishment. I'm pretty sure you have the wrong girl, so I'll be on my way now," Caroline attempted to move past him.

It was the wrong move because he grabbed her hand, throwing her into the wall. Her head hit it full-force, stars swimming in her vision. Inhaling deeply, she managed to maintain consciousness just barely. A shaking hand went to her neck and found it bleeding slightly, that forceful was the impact.

"You're not going anywhere. The fun has just begun." Ominous words that served to wake her up immediately. Yanking her by the hair, he lifted her to a standing position. In spite of the dizziness, Caroline persisted in looking him in the eye, not budging an inch.

"He really knows how to choose them, doesn't he?"

Without warning, lips crashed down on her. Caroline attempted to turn her head from the disgusting assault, but it was to no avail. Violent kisses continued to be bestowed upon her. Bile rose to her throat and she swallowed it down when he finally pulled back.

Taking advantage of the brief second in which her attacker was regaining his breath, clearly doubting she had enough spirit left in her, Caroline punched him hard and, utilizing surprise to her advantage broke free from underneath him and darted into a run, yelling for help.

Brisk steps resounded from behind, but she didn't risk a glance. She'd seen too many movies not to know how to avoid tripping. The light at the end of the tunnel was visible –she was nearly back on one of the main streets.

Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted from her back. Ignoring it, she tried to maintain her pace. Another jab, more intense, followed shortly. It hurt. A lot. Instinctively, she looked at her back and found two jagged slashes that had started to bleed. Crimson had spread all over her white blouse, contrasting starkly with the previously pure color.

In that precise moment an empty bottle appeared in her path. She didn't see it and collapsed to the floor like a sack of potatoes. That was when she knew her luck had run out. In no time, a shadow towered over her.

"You really thought you could run from me?"

Anger and frustration had made its way to her eyes, dragging warmth to them. Rapidly she attempted to blink it back, not show vulnerability. But Lord, was it hard! Besides the knowledge that her last chance to escape had slipped through her fingers, there was the intense burning in her back, her shirt was wet and clinging to her skin, a repugnant metallic stench invading her nostrils.

Death was in the air. It could be felt circling around her.

Being a surgeon, she knew the wounds weren't life threatening on their own, just shallow cuts. But blood loss was, in time, and she was not naïve enough to think he was done with her. This was merely the warm-up. The foreplay.

Apparently this man did not accept silence well or simply liked the sound of his voice too much, because he resumed babbling, striving to intimidate her into submission.

"You're not going to give in, are you? I like that. You know what? I'll have my fun with you first. After all, it's been too long."

A whimper could not be held in at the unspoken threat. She did not dare question what it had been too long from because the most probable answer was terrifying. What was even more terrifying was the cold tip of the blade resting on her cheek. "So pretty," he mumbled. "Just like _she_ was before they were done with her." Angrily, he cut her across the face, near her hairline. Going for her face was deliberate. He was trying to take away fore-mentioned beauty. Coppery liquid started to roll down her face, leaving a sticky trail in its wake.

Not one to give in though, Caroline tried to push him off again, uselessly this time. A hand thrust the blade against her throat while the other roamed up and down her body until it stopped on her back. Brutal fingers dug into the gashes, forcing them to open wider. As she flinched, a shudder went through him.

It was clear then. He was enjoying himself tremendously. Frightening and abusing her turned him on.

Still, the woman kept fighting. Against the hurt. Against the man on top of her. Against herself and her betraying, flaying will.

An onslaught of wet, repulsive kisses stung her neck. God, not that. She'd rather he killed her than have his way with her. During her years of working in the E.R. many rape victims had come. That dead and desponded look coupled with never being quite the same again. The sadness that those around them experienced when they saw that going back was impossible. She didn't want that. Not for her, or her beloved ones.

By now, Caroline was openly crying, unable to hold it in anymore. Her assailant rejoiced it and went as far as licking the translucent beads off her face.

"That's right, cry for me."

With her last energy, she tried to wiggle free, ignoring the caustic feeling as her cuts opened even more. She didn't care; she just wanted it to be over. Or get his hands off her, at least.

"Let go of me!" The desired authoritative note fell short, making it seem less of an order and more of a plea. "Take your filthy hands off me, right now!"

Still, it impressed the man who granted her a much needed break from groping her and instead focused his gleaming eyes on her. "You still haven't given up?" incredulity laced his voice. "You're much braver than her. So bold and aggressive in spite of all this. Not an easy one to break."

Was that admiration embedded into his words?

Ignoring his compliment or whatever that was meant to be, she concentrated on the other part of his sentences. A 'her' had been mentioned. It washed over her at the speed of light. He'd done this before. He'd killed before.

"You're insane," she spat out with as much hate as she could muster.

"Perhaps, but _he_ made me like this. He and his family. Because of them, she was taken away from me. I warned him that I would do it again, should he get near anybody. And then you showed up. I saw the way he looked at you, how he carried himself. One day with you and he was smiling."

He wasn't making any sense. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Gone was the momentarily show of emotion. The enraged look was back. "You don't have to." Cold steel pressed harder and harder against her. It was obvious. This time nothing would save her.

Bracing for the incoming assault, Caroline decided not to close her eyes however hard she wanted to. Yes, he would have to do it while looking at her. Yet that didn't seem to faze him. Tightly squeezing her breast, eliciting a sob from the blonde, he began to rip her shirt off. The material slowly snapped under the added pressure. Cold night air touched her skin, but Caroline was already frozen from deep within, immune to the outside temperature. Numb.

It was over.

She'd lost.

All of a sudden, his weight was lifted off her. The sound of bones grinding together and a loud crack emerged immediately afterwards. For seconds, Caroline was stuck, not really comprehending what was going on.

He was gone.

She was alive.

Alive. She had to repeat the word a few times in her head to make sure that it was correct.

Only after it had sunk it, did she glance at the area from which grunts and punches resonated. Somebody, a man had come to her aid. He was positively pounding on her assailant who, having been caught off guard had been rendered to a pile of mewling meat on the ground. The Good Samaritan was throwing punch after punch and then followed them with heavy, relentless kicks.

For a second, she had to focus her blurred vision to distinguish her savior's features. Moonlight came to her aid, casting a soft glow on the powerful figure. Fair blonde hair. Chiseled jaw. Full lips encircled by light stubble. And the decisive factor: threatening clouds of grey and blue, dilated in fury, a tempest burning deep within.

Klaus Mikaelson.

Only this was a version of him she hadn't seen, although she'd subconsciously known it was bubbling under the surface, waiting for the moment to come out and collect its pound of flesh.

Blood was flowing from the man's mouth, but Klaus did not let up. "You will pay, you bastard," he growled at the motionless man. "Like I promised you would."

Her attacker coughed under the effort of looking for Caroline. "You know, she didn't beg, didn't even try to. A real fighter, this one compared to the other. Now, that one was pleading for mercy. As blood seeped out of every pore of her body, she kept imploring, like an innocent doe that refuses to acknowledge it's been swallowed by a bigger, better animal."

He was provoking Klaus. Urging him on by bringing an unknown past into discussion. He liked it. One other look and it was clear, the man welcomed death. It was a reprieve from the hell he must be living on Earth, the one that made him into the monster that nearly killed Caroline.

It was working. Klaus's blows had intensified and the man was teetering on the edge between consciousness and blissful oblivion. He had crawled into a fetal position as constant blows shook him. Should this rate continue, Klaus would kill him with his bare hands.

Still clutching at the remains of her shirt, Caroline struggled to lift herself upright. Pointlessly because her knees felt like jelly, the effects of the significant hemorrhage becoming more and more pronounced. She settled on lying on her knees, her back supported by a nearby brick wall.

Wait for the worst to pass, for anger to burn out, she decided.

Within minutes, it was clear that wouldn't happen today. Klaus still hadn't let up. Moreover, the sound of minute facial bones snapping followed every blow. It was gruesome. Such hate and thirst for vengeance had existed only in the realm of fiction for Caroline before. There was deadly intent behind each stroke.

The man on the ground stopped moving altogether, eventually, but the onslaught did not stop.

"Klaus," her voice trembled weakly not able to reach the crazed man. "Klaus!"

This time his hand hesitated, hovering over the disfigured face. Intense, ice-cold eyes darted to her. Blood spatters were all over his face and blouse, making him look manic, like a villain from a horror movie. Caroline was speechless. What could one say to somebody found in such state?

Silence turned out to be costly because the swing eventually met its mark.

He would kill him. All doubt paled from her mind in that instant.

Klaus would become a murderer.

"Klaus, please, stop!" Her plea fell on deaf ears. Klaus Mikaelson was too lost inside his own head to listen to reason. The man that had assaulted her was defenseless right now. Killing him would be considered murder.

 _Just like he wanted to do to you,_ her inner self haughtily added, _let Klaus finish him off, he deserves it._

A battle waged inside her mind. Try to save the man who'd treated her like a doll he longed to dismember or let Klaus, somebody she had only known for a few days, be consumed by the darkness inside him.

In the end, one of the options won by a very slim margin.

Gathering all of her remaining strength and determination, Caroline pushed herself to her feet. The movement resulted in her cuts rupturing even further. Taking a second, the woman steadied herself, grasping the slab wall. Truthfully, she just wanted to collapse in a heap on the floor, but once her mind was set on accomplishing something, there was no going back.

Step after tedious step, the distance separating her from Klaus was reduced. He didn't seem to even notice.

Towering over the passed-out man, Klaus continued to bash him as hard as possible. For a moment, Caroline had to stop to ascertain if the injured one was still breathing.

He was. Shallowly.

Had Klaus not been so lost inside his bubbling rage, Caroline was sure she wouldn't have ever been able to sneak up on him like this. But he was and Caroline was inches away from him. Aware that her words would not have any effect on him, Caroline grabbed his hand mid-punch.

Surprise was evident in his reaction. Startled, striking blue eyes turned to her. The raw emotion behind them, made Caroline's foggy brain compare them with a blizzard that raged on eternally. The Klaus she knew was not the one before her. That much was obvious.

"Klaus, don't!" She tried once again to bring him back, but judging by the way he wrestled to free his hand, demons were still plaguing him. Planting her feet on the ground, Caroline was proud that she managed to remain upright. Vice-fingers wrapped around her wrist. Tightly, but not tightly enough to actually hurt her.

"Let go of my hand," he growled warningly. It was clear that his limited self-control was thinning.

"No." Caroline shook her head. "I'm not going to let you kill him."

Her audacity was something that under any other circumstances would have amused her terribly. Like she could stop him, should he wish to go on. One shove and she would be on the ground, him ready to resume.

Disbelief replaced some of the anger.

"He tried to kill you," Klaus pointedly gazed at her bleeding temple, probably unaware of her back wounds. "He hurt you. And after all that, you are still asking for mercy for him?"

When he put it like that, Caroline had to admit that it sounded foolishly selfless. Of course, she did not want to become an accomplice to murder, but if one took into account what he'd put her through, Caroline was fairly certain that nobody would blame her. But that was not her main reason. No, that was represented by her unwillingness to stand by and watch Klaus turn into an assassin.

That kind of deed ripped apart a small piece of someone's soul every time. And Klaus already looked like he was walking a tightrope between light and dark. Caroline would be damned if she allowed the latter to take over.

"Yes. I'm asking you to please not kill him."

That request shook Klaus to the core. Taking a second, to gain a bit of composure, Klaus studied her. Caked blood matted her hair, turning it strawberry blonde, her skin was deadly pale, nearly translucent and she was hunched over, clearly in pain. What really sent him spiraling was her torn shirt. It was hanging by a thread, and the thought of why Lucien Castle had attempted to undress Caroline had him seething.

"Why?" was all his mouth could muster.

"Because," she pondered her next words as both men's faiths depended on them. Not that she cared much about her assailant. "I don't want you to become a killer."

Grey eyes widened. "You're begging for the life of the person who would have butchered you without batting an eyelash for me? To save my soul?"

The blonde nodded.

"Caroline, there is no soul left in me to save. It has been gone for months."

 _Way longer than that if he was honest._

"No, it's not. I don't believe it. I've only known you for a few days, but I've caught glimpses of it. Moments when you let your guard down and allow yourself to smile freely, make fun of my bartending skills. I know it was you who sent away that drunken idiot from the bar, even though I pretended I did not. Someone with no soul would not intervene to help others. Nor would he kill a helpless person."

Tiredness was seeping into her bones. Standing upright and keeping a relatively firm hold on his hand was harder with every second.

"You're delusional," the resolute tone was wavering.

"I guess we'll see," dizziness was stronger now, voice weak, barely above a whisper. Depleted body refused to continue to remain standing. Caroline crumpled on her knees, her hand dropping, freeing Klaus's body. He was free. To do whatever he wished. Still, clouded washed-out green orbs fixed him. Waiting for his next move.

Klaus Mikaelson was left pondering, mouth gaping at the fiery, noble character the blonde had just shown.

Revenge for what had been done to Camille lay before him, ready for the taking. She deserved retribution. He'd sworn on her memory. Normally he wouldn't have hesitated, but an invisible force was holding him back.

The conviction with which Caroline had begged for Lucien's life had marked him deeply. To his surprise, the feeling of Caroline's fingers on his forearm, etched into his skin, was staying his hand. Her pleas had not been in vain. She wanted to save his soul, not let it be tainted by a murder.

If only she knew how many bodies he had on his conscience, he thought bitterly. What was one more red name added to his ledger?

What was even more baffling was his desire to acquiesce to her demands.

"He has to pay," he tried to convince himself that what he planned was warranted. For Camille. If he didn't do it, he would feel like he was stomping on her memory. But then there was Caroline. Effectively accomplishing his plans would be letting her down. Surprisingly, he did not wish to do that. For some unknown reason, he cared about her opinion of him.

"He will," Caroline intervened again. "I'll testify against him. He can't escape prison. Justice will ensure he atones."

"Justice is not always fair," he tried to argue.

"Neither is taking it all into your own hands. Not for you or for him."

Last resolve was crumbling. Klaus could feel it deep within, like an earthquake tearing down part of his purpose in life. One glimpse at the woman on the ground, fighting to keep roused, lids heavier and heavier and he knew:

He'd already made a choice. An unexpected one.

Swaying, Caroline was inches away from hitting the concrete. Bracing herself for the pain to come, she was surprised when all that came were two strong hands wrapped around her. Forcing her eyes to slits, she understood that Klaus was holding her in his arms.

Immediately, she peered at her assailant and found him wheezing for air. Still breathing.

"I knew it," she murmured frailly, taking in his scent: a leathery musky delicate fragrance that had mixed with the iron aroma of blood. Dark and alluring at the same time.

Until he could question what she meant, Caroline went limp, effectively passing out in his arms. Panicking, Klaus listened for the sound of her breathing and let out a sigh of relief at the steady rhythm he found. Seeing her bleeding in his arms sent him back to that fateful night 9 months ago. That day he'd been too late.

Thankfully, today he'd chosen to follow Caroline, to ensure she got to her hotel safely. The figure he'd spotted in the window had been behind his decision. History tended to repeat itself. Easily chalked up to paranoid behavior, he'd still chosen to indulge his instinct.

Thankfully.

Otherwise, Caroline would have had the same fate as Camille. Worse, if one judged the way Lucien had her pinned, nearly undressed. It made his blood boil.

Still, Caroline had found it in her to grant clemency to Lucien Castle. For him. To preserve whatever goodness remained in his heart.

Too bad there was none left.

He cast one last look at the broken man before him. Looking at the past, Klaus could see he had good reasons to wish to hurt him. But he'd apologized and explained to Lucien what had really happened. They were friends. Klaus thought he'd understand, but no, he'd completely lost it and vowed to get revenge.

Just as Klaus had after Camille. Camille- the woman who could have been so much more in his life, but hadn't because she'd been taken too soon, the woman he'd sworn to avenge.

 _I'm sorry, Camille,_ he looked at the sky _, I couldn't let her down too._

He'd nearly turned into Lucien Castle and his father and all of those things he despised about his family. A full-fledged monster is what he'd almost become. But he hadn't.

Because of Caroline.

She appeared to bring out a better side of him. One that he thought was long gone; vanished without a trace after _he_ had died in his arms.

Caroline had awakened it. With her benevolence and faith in him. Only one other person had believed in him and he'd paid the costly price. After knowing him for two days, the blonde saw something in him that not even part of his family had.

His eyes softened as he glanced at her. Checking for further injury, Klaus was stupefied to see two deep slashes across her back. They explained her current state and almost sent him spiraling again. But before that could occur, he called 911 and told the operator what had transpired.

Consequences would follow his choice, he was sure. People would find out his current whereabouts. People who longed to see him dead. They would come. _He_ would come.

All that Klaus hoped was the Caroline's goodness would not backfire against her.

If there was one thing he'd learned over the years was that being linked to him, resulted in death or grave injury every single time.

No, he would prevent that from happening. Somehow, he would find a way to protect her from the cruel creatures waiting for a moment of weakness on his part to pounce on it.

This time he would be the one who came on top in their duel. For the first time he would be the strongest one of the two.

Klaus would kill _him_ if he did show up. There was no doubt in his mind. With _him_ there was no other way. There had never been, but he'd been too blind to see it.

Not anymore. Their next confrontation would result with one of them receiving a one-way ticket to hell.

And it wouldn't be him.

* * *

 **A/N To begin with, I would like to thank all of the people who took the time to review or add this story to their favourite/follow list. You have no idea how much it motivates and means to me. I know that my decision to bring Camille in the previous chapter was met with a pretty negative response, so I would like to clarify some things. Klaus and Camille were never together, so to speak, and what Klaus had just started to feel for Camille will never rival what he will start to feel for Caroline. In my story, Klaus is a very broken person, who had never experienced real love and it was easy to confuse it with care and affection. Only with Caroline will he discover what true love is, you will see in the following chapters. Moreover, I like Caroline's character way too much to allow her to ever be second choice. The motivation behind Klaus's closed-off behaviour goes way deeper than what happened with Camille and it will be revealed in the future, when the story will take a turn for the dark side.**

 **Now, I hope that you liked this chapter more than the previous one and I promise I will try to make them better every single time, for you.**


	6. Chapter 6

The stark smell of bleach was overwhelming. Bright lights were blinding even through closed eyelids. An annoying beeping forced her into awareness even though her body and lids felt extremely heavy.

Slowly, Caroline started blinking, desperate to see where she was. As the flashy glare subsided, the woman could catch a glimpse of her surroundings. The room was pristinely clean, the walls a sickly green color and the linens a depressing shade of grey.

A hospital room.

She'd recognize one anywhere after all the years spent as a doctor. Never the patient, though, she could now comprehend how those poor people felt waking into an unknown room with only fragments of how they'd wound up there.

A sting erupted from her hand as she tried to accommodate herself on the bed. An IV line pumping what appeared to be some sort of painkillers and blood into her system and a thin bandage covered her temple.

What had happened?

From what she could discern, her injuries were not life-threatening, at least. The worst that she suffered from was blood loss, she gathered.

Scrunching her brow, Caroline tried to piece together her hazy memories.

New Orleans, she was sure she was in this city.

She'd taken up a job at Rousseau's and was walking back home. Then? What followed? A gasp escaped her lips when everything returned, like a hurricane at the same time.

Someone had attacked her. He'd cut her, was about to rape and kill her when Klaus had intervened with unparalleled and unexplainable rage. Oh my God, he'd almost murdered that man in cold blood.

But hadn't.

Upon her request, he had stopped. Caroline was not naïve enough to believe it had been because of her, but still, that proved that he was not the despicable person he liked others to think he was. She had been right, there was good in there, hidden behind layers of contempt and hatred towards the world.

Out of the blue, the door creaked open. Speak of the devil, Klaus quietly entered the room. For a brief moment, he appeared startled to find curious, forest-green eyes staring at him.

"Hi," Caroline greeted him.

Clumsily, the man nodded at her. It was as if he didn't know what to say. An unexpected sight from someone so confident and poised. He finally settled on abandoning common courtesy and cutting straight to the chase. "How are you feeling, Caroline?"

"All drugged up so I can't really feel much," she sheepishly smiled. "But well enough, considering everything."

Her voice trailed off as she was reminded of being in that alley. At the complete mercy of a psychopath. Bleeding, nearly naked, weeping helplessly. She shuddered at what would have happened.

"You saved me. Thank you."

Never before had she been so sincere in her life. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she'd be dead had it not been for Klaus.

"There's no need to thank me, Caroline," a tightness appeared in his eyes, his voice firm.

The blonde's eyes drifted to his heavily bandaged knuckles. They were tightly clenched in fists, blood already seeping through them. "There is. I wouldn't be breathing now if you hadn't shown up," she argued with no intention of letting this slide. He would accept her gratitude or her name wasn't Caroline Forbes.

"There's a lot you don't know about, Caroline." _Things you'll never know_ , he refrained from adding.

That was no reason not to thank him. He'd risked his life for her and she'd be damned if he would get away with just that poor excuse of an explanation. "So tell me," she innocently added unaware that she was referring to wrecked families, torture, assassins and countless deaths- some that he was responsible for, directly or indirectly.

One shake of the head, made it clear. There would be no revelations today on Klaus's part. His past was a dark place in which he rarely dared to venture and today was not going to be an exception. "There's a police officer waiting to take your statement," swiftly, he'd closed any room Caroline had for further questioning. "Should I tell him to pass or do you wish him to come back after you've properly rested?"

Of course, the police. She had sworn to testify against her assailant after all. To make him pay, like Klaus had perfectly put it. Why the stubbornness in ensuring that man suffered, Caroline did not know, but she would find out eventually. After all, when she put her mind up to a task, it rarely failed, if ever.

Her current state was far from being peachy, but the dreaded talk with the police was unavoidable and it was better to just get it over with. The odds of her feeling up to depict her attack were slim, especially in front of a complete stranger. Letting go and being vulnerable had never been her strong suite. It would be better to do it fast, like ripping off a band aid.

"No, it's fine. Tell him to enter, please."

Klaus did just that without uttering anything else. Shortly after he exited, a tall, uniformed man made his entrance. He commanded respect, but his eyes had a rough edge to them. Undoubtedly, he was a serious man who took his job overly seriously.

"I am Officer Samuel Black, Ma'am and I will be asking you a few questions regarding what transpired last night," his voice was stern and Caroline knew that she was in for a challenging interrogation. What she did not know was why he was adapting this tone with her. After all, she was the victim here.

Not that she longed for sympathy, but his motives behind passive-aggressive behavior were a mystery for her.

"Of course," she tried to be as formal as the policeman.

"Now, Ms. Forbes, I have already taken Mr. Mikaelson's statement, but there are a few things I would like to clarify with you."

Realization dawned on her. Klaus's brutal attack had been borderline illegal and this man appeared to be fishing for something to sink his claws into. Why though, she could not figure out.

"I would be happy to help you, officer," her earnest voice cloaked the insecurity and fear that, rushing to aid her might be used against Klaus.

"I appreciate it. Now, if you could talk me through the night, how it occurred, as specifically as you can."

There was a glint in his maroon that the woman didn't like at all. There was more than met the eye and it had Caroline intrigued. First things first, she had to get him off their back and ensure Klaus's safety. Then, and only then, she will be conducting her own interrogation.

"I was heading home, after my shift at the bar had ended."

Samuel Black couldn't help himself and interrupted straight ahead. "At the bar where you had just spoken to Klaus Mikaelson?"

"Yes, he was my last customer of the night. Now, as I saying, I had just left Rousseau's…"

Once again, she was rudely cut in the middle of the sentence. "At Rousseau's Klaus Mikaleson mentioned he spotted someone looking at you."

"Yes," Caroline got out through gritted teeth, annoyance building with each passing second. "Now, if you would let me finish a phrase I might get there, eventually." She knew that she was quite possibly making things worse, but a headache was building behind her eyes and, to add fuel to fire, the effect of what she assumed to be morphine had started to wear off, making the cuts on her back ache with even the slightest move.

"I apologize, Ms. Forbes, but I just want us to cover all bases," his voice was as false as the smile he got in return from Caroline.

"I understand perfectly, official. The man I presume you have in custody had indeed been spying on us since before the bar closed and started to follow me. Taking advantage of a slight lapse in judgment on my side, he trapped me into a corner where he assaulted me."

Caroline recounted the events with clinical precision, making believe it wasn't her life she was speaking about. A movie was being played back in her mind and she was just the narrator. A technique she'd picked up after her brief psych rotation.

"What happened then? Could you please elaborate?"

Samuel Black was walking a very fine line between filling his job description and assaulting her with a barrage of insensitive questions. Had it been a weaker person, they would have crumbled under the pressure.

But not Caroline.

"I was almost naked, my blouse in tatters, bleeding and unable to fight him off. Rape was imminent, I knew it and was attempting to brace myself for it," remembering all that, however hard she tried brought tears to her eyes. Tears she refused to allow to fall in this man's presence. Precisely for that reason, she fast-forwarded to her rescue. "Before that could happen, Klaus came, took him off me and… ensured that he was no longer a threat."

Hazel eyes narrowed at the last part. This was Caroline's only lie. Leaving out Klaus's vicious attack was proving harder than imagined, though.

"When you say 'ensure he was no longer a threat', does that entail pouncing on him and leaving him barely clinging to life?"

Why did this appear personal? Caroline could not shake off that gut feeling so she added it to the long list of questions awaiting Klaus.

Presuming he didn't get a free ride to prison after this.

"Look, Mr. Black," green seas of anger turned to him. "That man you have in custody tried to kill me. Had it not been for Klaus Mikaelson, I would be long dead. So if what you are trying to ask me is if I think Klaus went overboard and used excessive force on him, then the answer is no. He just did what was needed until you, the police, finally came. If he had chosen to instead hold his breath until you graced us with your coveted presence, we wouldn't be in a hospital, but rather a morgue."

Her outburst appeared to have elicited the wanted effect. Samuel Black was left gaping disbelievingly. Most likely, he hadn't been expecting such ferocity from the woman who'd nearly been butchered in an alley. Tough luck because he hadn't seen nothing yet.

"We came within 10 minutes of the 911 call, Ma'am," he tried to defend.

"Too bad it only takes seconds to slit someone's throat and for them to bleed out."

That piece of truth shook some of his inner confidence, fact made obvious by him biting on his bottom lip, self-consciously. "I see. Two more questions and we'll be done here."

No answer was deemed appropriate, Caroline choosing to save her energy, still feeling quite weak, this heated conversation taking its toll on her.

"Do you happen to know Lucien Castle or Camille O'Connell?"

"Never heard of them before." Now, that was true. The names didn't ring a bell, but she had an idea to whom they might. A wild guess popped inside her head and she had to voice it, "Is this Lucien guy the one who attacked me?"

"Yes, he is," Samuel anticipated her next inquiry. "As of yet we do not know what motive lay behind that act. Lastly, are you familiar with the Mikaelson family?"

Brows furrowed at that phrasing. It was like they were a cult or something. This cop was certainly off his rocker.

"No, the only one I know is Klaus and even him for barely a couple of days. Why?"

"Just covering all of my bases, like I said," he shook it off. "I apologize for interrupting your recovery with my questions, but I can ensure you that Lucien will serve time for what he did to you."

So he did have a sense of justice, after all. Something else, though, made it worth retelling the most horrible night of her life:

He would pay.

Just like she'd promised to Klaus. Caroline hadn't failed. And Klaus was safe because the only witness, save from the accused claimed that Klaus's use of force had been justified and within the law.

"It's no problem, thank you officer. Have a nice day."

He returned her pleasantries and eventually left the hospital room. Caroline heaving out a sigh of relief.

The danger was gone. The battle was won.

What followed was an even harder one. One that she doubted she would prevail in: getting some sort of insight into all of this from Klaus.

Said understanding left itself waited because the next person to cross her threshold was a doctor who'd come to give her a detailed description of her condition which turned out to be just as she'd expected.

Minor slashes that had required twenty stitches and would leave scars, but were in no way life threatening. Ergo, she would be allowed to check out tomorrow morning provided that she took good care of her injuries. Not a problem for a surgeon, she was quick to assure.

Afterwards, hours passed and nobody else came. Judging by it, Klaus had lost interest in her, now that he was positive that she was fine. It saddened her, but she chalked it up to frustration for being denied answers. Soon enough, her body screamed for rest and the woman acquiesced, finding nothing else to occupy her time with.

Images of her attack flashed before her eyes. Only, in her nightmares, the end was different. Either Klaus failed to come in time and she lay on the pavement as Lucien Castle had his way with her or, Klaus couldn't overpower the man, stab wounds burying inside his stomach and throat, black blood glistening in the moonlight as copious amounts of it left his body.

By the time she woke up, heavily breathing from the wretched figments of her morbid imagination, light no longer graced the room, night having taken over. When her eyes accustomed to the dark, a figure could be spotted on the chair in the corner of the room.

Caroline let out a yelp. It brought her back to that dark street. Lucien had come back to finish the job, just like in her dream. Desperate, the woman made to leave the bed, try to run for it, when the silhouette abruptly stood up, hands lifted above his head, in a peaceful sign.

"It's me, Caroline, take it easy, it's just me."

That voice she would never confuse. Klaus Miklaeson was the intruder, not Lucien Castle. Immediately, tightly-wound muscles relaxed, fingers dropping the IV line she had been about to rip off.

"What are you doing at this time of night here? Visiting hours are long gone," the woman accused. Truthfully, she wasn't mad that he was here, rather on the fact that he'd seen her show fear. It was an image she'd always shielded herself against projecting. Always strong, fearless, invincible, never weak, terrified or suffering- that was the Caroline everybody knew. And she'd unwillingly shown Klaus Mikaelson of all people the other side of her.

Now that she stopped to think about it, had Klaus been watching her sleep? Had he been guarding her?

No, that was impossible and pointless since the man who'd wanted her dead was in police custody facing years of imprisonment.

"I thought I'd check on you; see how you fare after everything."

Damn, she couldn't pretend not to be affected in the slightest by the incident with Lucien. Not after he'd been given a sample of genuine fright on her part.

"I…" she stumbled on the right words, the lie getting stuck inside her mouth. "Honestly, I've been better."

"I apologize for what happened to you," just like that he said words that the blonde had never even thought remotely possible for him to possess in his vocabulary. And they hadn't been needed.

"It wasn't your fault, there's no reason for you to apologize."

A clench of the jaw and it appeared obvious that Klaus wished to argue with her. But Caroline didn't feel up to it. Getting into a row at such a late hour after her last day didn't appeal at all to her. To make matters worse, even her sleep had to be haunted by flashbacks and distorted versions of the events.

"The policeman had questions about you," she chose to change the subject.

An eyebrow lifted, the corners of his eyes wrinkling- minuscule tells. "What did he want to know?"

"He had his doubts about whether you used excessive force on Lucien when you saved me." That was a light way to put it. Samuel Black had gone all out on Klaus, vying to catch him red-handed, but to his disappointment, Caroline hadn't been willing to play ball.

"And what did you tell him?"

To her surprise, he didn't seem particularly affected. The prospect of serving time left him cold, as if it was a walk in the park. That served to puzzle her further in regards to who Klaus Mikaelson really was. A conflicting portrait had been building ever since their first encounter in Mystic Falls and up until now. A paradox is what he appeared to be, always more than met the eye.

"I told him that what you did was justified and that you never overstepped any legal boundaries."

If she were honest, Klaus appeared quite surprised that she'd chosen to protect him. Had he expected her to rat him out after everything he'd done?

"I see. Thank you, Caroline."

With a flick of the hand, the blonde shook off the need for such a thing. In the grand scheme of things, what she'd done was meager and insignificant. Still, there were a few questions that had etched themselves into her brain and refused to leave. Since going to back to sleep, to the realm of monsters, was a far-fetched possibility for tonight, she chose to try to clarify some of them with Klaus.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

Now that had him tense. For the first time, Klaus hesitated in front of Caroline as he weighed down her request. Clearly, he was a very private man and agreeing to answer to what must feel like a stranger's inquiries was not something he usually did. "You don't have to answer any of them if you don't want to," she rushed to assure, not that she had any doubts that he would've done just that even without her telling him.

In the end, he nodded and dragged his chair closer to her bed, preparing for her queries. The fact that he believed he had to stand down worried Caroline. What can of worms was she about to open up?

"Did you know Lucien Castle before?" that had been her first impression of the two and she was rarely wrong with these things.

"Yes," he confirmed her doubts.

To say his admission rattled her was an understatement. Could Klaus be the man Lucien had been referring to? And if he was, what did he have to pay for? So many more question marks rose after this one confirmation.

"How?" was the simple one that followed suit, encompassing some of her other curiosities.

Mercury orbs turned away from her. His shoulders slacked. Lips formed a tight line. Together, they helped pencil the portrait of a man venturing down a sad lane of memories.

"Were you friends?" she dared to add after an eternity of quiet, effectively snapping him back to reality.

"It's a long story and I'd rather not speak of it now," Klaus sighed, rejecting to share what had soured his mood, but reconsidered and ventured another whispered sentence. "We were, a long time ago."

Glazed over eyes finally looked at her. Sadness swam in them. Silently, they were asking her not to pursue this line of inquiry. So she didn't.

"What about your family? The police officer asked me if I knew them too."

An even stronger reaction was elicited at the mention of his relatives. Hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms, he appeared ready to fight whoever came into view. It was an even more murderous look than the one he'd given Lucien. Whatever it was that he was remembering, or whomever, Caroline pitied them.

Having the rage of a man like Klaus directed at you was like a sword hanging over your head. You never knew when it would come down, but it was doubtless that your days were counted.

"Did he tell you anything more?" narrowed eyes and gritted teeth united to form the picture of a deadly man.

This was starting to get a little bit scary for the blonde. However much she wished to believe he wouldn't hurt her, she barely knew him for two days. To be certain that she was safe in his presence would be foolish, but a huge part of her screamed that as long as he was near she was safe.

"No, just if I'd met or heard of them." His entire body relaxed and he appeared…relieved. Why was he so relieved? "Why? Should he have told me anything else?"

Another brief second of hesitation. Alarm bells rang in Caroline's mind.

"No. Me and my family are…estranged."

A family that had gone their separate ways. That didn't seem to be a good enough reason to awake such a reaction. For God's sake, Caroline, he saved you, complained her inner self.

And that combined with the sorrow hidden not that well at the word family, the woman chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. Everybody deserved it.

So she didn't push the subject, instead jumping on to the final question. "Who is Camille O'Connell?"

At the mention of the name, the man winced, stood up, shoulders sagging and turned his back to her. For a long time, Caroline was sure that he wouldn't answer anything. The pure grief emanating from every pore of his body was enough to guarantee her muteness.

A sign of respect towards his clear melancholy.

"She was a friend. A very good friend," by the time his voice worked again, Caroline had altogether given up on receiving anything in regards to this Camille woman. Like his family, they appear taboo topics.

 _Was_.

The word echoed strongly. Past tense.

"Is she," she bit her lip. "Is she dead?"

"Yes," voice filled to the brim with raw emotion.

Caroline wished to ask whether Camille was the one Lucien kept rambling about. Or if she was the one who'd been compared to Caroline and who had, in Lucien's sick and twisted mind come second. "I'm terribly sorry," is what came out instead

A hand rested against the wall as Klaus, ignoring her lamentation, tried to gather himself. Not one, or two, but the only three matters in the world that could affect him and Caroline had tackled them all throughout half an hour.

Not able to withstand someone's condolences, all Klaus longed to do was flee. Crawl up in a hole where nobody would ever find him. That way no one else would suffer the consequences of being near him. Unfortunately, he could not do that. His moral compass, small and rusty, refused to permit it.

Being mentioned in public records alongside him was a surefire way to get hurt. Her light, the light that still shone brightly enough to blind him, would not be snuffed out by his past mistakes.

When he felt steady enough, his voice no longer in danger of breaking, he turned to look at her. There had been enough revelations for the night. Dwelling on the past helped no one; instead one must focus on the future. "I spoke with your doctor. They are releasing you tomorrow. Have you made any arrangements to go back to Mystic Falls?"

That was a presumptuous question that had effectively derailed her from pursuing the Camille line of enquiry. Who had said anything about going back to her hometown just yet?

"I'm not going to Mystic Falls, yet. I promised Melanie I would stay for two weeks and I don't go back on my promises, ever."

A spark of admiration lit at her resilience and honesty. Here she was, in a hospital bed, having just received a transfusion after being ruthlessly assaulted and she still cared about the oath made to a stranger on a drunken night.

"Rousseau's been taken care of," was a lie that easily slipped through his lips. Actually, a few phone calls were all that stood between the position at Rousseau's being filled. A quest he would get to first thing in the morning. Protests were awakening in fiery emerald eyes. "I've spoken to Melanie and she agrees completely," another lie that would become true in a few hours' time.

"Even then, I can't go back to Mystic Falls, I have a wedding to attend." Her complaints weren't really based on reality. The ceremony would take place in nearly two weeks, which gave plenty of time return to her hometown, but something was holding her back.

Being back in the real world. With the people who knew her perfectly and would see straight through her imaginary boyfriend. She would become their amusement. A wedding was a more controlled environment for her first meeting with the astonishing couple.

"You could go there earlier, live in that resort in the Caribbean." he suggested clearly in a hurry to get her out of his city.

"It's in Malibu," she corrected habitually. "And I don't want to be the first there and then have to face the prospect of everyone pitying me for having made-up a boyfriend."

Pensively, all of the options weighed carefully, he finally spoke. "I'll come with you to Mystic Falls, be your pretend boyfriend like you first proposed to me. All I ask is that you leave New Orleans straight away."

He'd go with her? Caroline could not believe it.

What she'd chalked up as a bad cause, proved quite doable. All she had to do was go and nearly get killed. Also, there was more than Klaus was letting on. Why the need for her to depart so soon? Why the desperation that ensured that he volunteered to her stupid plan?

"You'd really do that?" she had to ask again, to make sure she'd understood right.

"I will, Caroline."

After the sincerity lodged within his eyes, Caroline accepted. It was the situation that gave the most benefits in the long run. So she agreed. The tall, muscular figured bid her good-night, hand on the knob, door slightly creaked, when the woman found another question.

One that appeared even more important in the grand scheme of things.

"Who are you running from? Who do you think you're protecting me from?"

Klaus remained turned, but the metal shook under his hand, bending in three places, but he did not gaze at her again.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Caroline. Don't worry about the flight details, I'll handle them."

Enigmatic, as usually, Klaus abandoned her in the grasp of the night, prisoner to flashbacks, but also to her imagination who would not stop the crazy scenarios.

I really hope I'm making the right choice here, was her last thought before choosing to crumble to sleep, having increased her dose of painkillers, to make her numb to all sorts of dreams.

Unbeknown to her, the dice had already been thrown.

A very dark figure got closer and closer to her and Klaus. A silhouette that yearned for death or for blood to be spilled.

And it would be, Caroline will learn that the following hellish weeks.

Peace was coming to an end.

The war that was brewing was only just becoming, with its key combatants being in the process of choosing their companions.

So far, Klaus had only one in his box: Caroline.

All he hoped was that she wouldn't run away when she heard of his past.


	7. Chapter 7

A small bandage on her temple effortlessly covered up by curly locks. It would barely leave a scar. Alas, the only visible physical evidence that could give away the events which had transpired two days ago.

Clothes masked the bigger injuries that still hurt at brusque movements. And let's not forget about the smile that concealed the wounds sustained by her psyche. Nightmares had troubled her throughout the night. Even at the safety of daylight, Caroline kept feeling like somebody was waiting to pounce on her as soon as she left the hospital.

A feat which would occur shortly. Release papers signed and a box of painkillers tucked inside her purse, Caroline grabbed her phone, intending to call Klaus to ask him about their departure to Mystic Falls when she realized she didn't even have his number. Along with that, came the startling awareness that they barely knew a thing, save for their names, about each other. Sure, he was familiar with her bad fortune in love and she had learned that he was not on speaking terms with his family, but that was it.

Quite the boyfriend and girlfriend, weren't they?

The lack of personal knowledge was a minor flaw in her stupendous plan that would have to be remedied. As soon as possible, preferably before they made fools of themselves.

For now, all she had to do was wait for Klaus to make his appearance. _If_ he hadn't changed his mind.

Thankfully, the seed of doubt was only allowed to grow for a few minutes, since said man stepped into her hospital room right as her thoughts were continuously vying in his direction. Like he'd read her mind.

"Hello, Caroline," he ascertained her condition, appearing satisfied to find her so much better. On the outside. "Are you ready to go?"

Boy, wasn't that the question? Gnawing on her lip, she contemplated on the answer. She was yearning to leave New Orleans, the city in which the streets made her blood run cold, but was she longing to go back to her hometown? No, the reunion with friends and family was dreaded, at best and the wedding would be an abhorrent trial.

Still, they would both be stoically endured by the woman who never backed down.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

The man appeared about to question her resolve, but changed his mind at the last moment. Instead, he inquired about her belongings, informing her that their flight left in three hours.

"Everything I brought with me is back at the hotel," she bit her lip. "I can go, collect them and meet you at the airport."

Truthfully, horror filled her mind at doing both of those things. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, the prospect of venturing alone into the streets of New Orleans was not a welcoming thought. But then, she and Klaus were not really together, they were not even friends yet and she could not continue to impose on him. Saving her life and agreeing to accompany her was more than enough. Whatever the reason was.

"That's nonsense," he quickly shut down her proposal. "You don't own a car and have no knowledge of how to get around in this city. It would be a lot faster and practical if I accompanied you."

"Thank you, but I really do not wish to bother you any further than must be."

"Caroline," he warningly said her name. Enough for her to back off and accept his offer, especially because it alleviated her unspoken concerns.

Sticking to his nature, Klaus remained guarded after she provided him with the name of the hotel. Silence engulfed the car, not even the radio daring to cut it and the woman found herself risking furtive glances at the driver. He was more relaxed than yesterday, but just as reserved and private. So different from the man who'd made a quick appearance at the bar: the one, who joked, laughed and teased, only to vanish with the speed of light.

Had she any doubts before, now everything was crystal clear- there was no friendship between them, he didn't trust her enough for that. What connected them was an agreement that would dissipate once the wedding was over with. Both would go their separate ways, never to meet again.

Not wishing to make the situation even more awkward by prolonging the quietness, she asked, "Do you mind if I turn the radio on?"

"Go ahead."

After his permission, music started to rasp out through unused loudspeakers. Shifting from channel to channel, the blonde appeared satisfied when a soft rock ballad came on.

 _Too much love will kill you._

An old Queen song whose meaning, mixed with her situation made for a hilarious combination that earned a few stray giggles, managing to attract a few scrutinizing looks from Klaus. He was checking to make sure his companion had not abandoned her sanity at the hospital.

This only amused Caroline further, lighting up her mood for the rest of the mute car ride.

Packing up the little luggage she had scattered all over the hotel room, the young woman had to stop a few times to catch her breath. Apparently, the fatigue hadn't passed and neither had the pain in her back which became sharp and stinging whenever she bent or turned around.

Not a funny experience, but she managed without asking for help. It made her proud that she maintained her prized independence in front of the man who'd seen her at her weakest.

Another fastidious, time-consuming process was proven to be checking-in. A process that took a lot less than usual due to the queue being way shorter than ever before. When they stepped into the plane, the confusion as to why was swept aside.

First class tickets. That was what Klaus had bought for them.

"This way, Ma'am," a polite woman with a stylish red, long bob haircut led them to their seats. Brown, soft leather and a small TV positioned in front of her. The chair was large enough to sleep in; compared to the cramped ones she was used to. Not that she was poor, on the contrary, but this was a level of luxury she did not afford. "Can I bring you anything to drink?"

This unusual, attentive behavior made Caroline flush. The woman wasn't much younger than her, yet addressing her reverently, like one would a member of aristocracy, politician or celebrity. Caroline was none.

"A cup of black tea, if you have any," she chose a beverage that would not interact with her painkillers. Not that she planned to take them unless the pain became unbearable.

"Of course, what about you, sir?"

"A glass of whiskey, please," he decidedly ordered. The stewardess did not appear surprised at somebody strong drinking this early in the afternoon. Merely nodding, not an ounce of judgment present, she went to fetch their drinks so Caroline chose to follow her example and ignore her companion's unhealthy habit.

"You didn't have to do this," Caroline declared once they were alone.

Puzzlement graced steel-grey eyes. "What do you mean?"

"This," she gestured to the plane. "First class tickets, paying for them, even driving me to the hotel. It's me who should be covering the expenses of this trip. In fact, as soon as we land, I'll pay you back."

The prideful look she gave him was quite amusing to the man. Had she known him better, Caroline would understand that such offer was pointless. Not like he was missing the money, anyway.

"You will do no such thing. It would be entirely unnecessary," she opened her mouth to argue. "And before you say anything else, I will refuse your it regardless of your arguments."

"God, you are infuriatingly stubborn," she raised her voice. "Are you some kind of closeted millionaire or something?" Narrowed green orbs focused on him, but she could not hide the small upward curve of her lips.

"Something," he mysteriously responded earning a theatrical eye-roll on her account.

"Fine," she pretended to continue to be angry. "But I warn you, this is the last thing you'll pay for me on this trip."

Klaus merely smirked, fully aware that nobody could tell him what to do and that there was no way he would allow Caroline to pay for him. Nevertheless, he would permit her to continue to believe in that illusion until the plane landed.

It was clear that the fiery woman had more to add to the conversation, but the flight attendant interrupted it by fetching them their orders. A steaming cup of black liquid was placed in front of Caroline along with some honey and milk. Ignoring both, she sipped the soothing herbal mix, smiling at the perfect aroma.

Klaus was surprised, to say the least. Apparently all you had to do in order to improve Caroline's mood was offer her tea. If only he'd known that earlier, it would have saved them some heated discussions.

"I've been thinking of something," Caroline declared after the plane was finally up in the air, soaring above immaculate, puffy clouds.

"Well, that's a surprise," he mumbled, slightly annoyed by the woman's habit to over-analyze every single detail and then hassle him with her findings.

"Don't mock me! This is serious."

He could bet that it wasn't half as serious as the matters plaguing his mind, life or death issues, yet there was no other way but to humor her. One did not just simply say no to Caroline Forbes. He was starting to come to terms with that small fact.

"I'm all ears, Caroline," blue eyes widened slightly to give the impression of someone deeply affected by what was coming his way.

She took a deep breath to gather patience to deal with the man clearly laughing at her in his head. "We are landing in Mystic Falls, where we'll be pretending to be madly in love, in two hours and we don't know a thing about each other."

That was a fair point, he had to admit, but Klaus did not fancy the implications that held. There was no way that he was discussing his life with her. He'd divulged enough already in the hospital. More than anyone who hadn't been a part in some of those fateful events had ever learned from him.

"We know enough to deceive your friends," he tried to make her quit the subject.

Mission impossible because Caroline never quit. It just wasn't in her blood, he'd come to learn. She just pushed forward against all adversity and somehow, he didn't doubt that triumph was usually what she reaped. Not this time, though.

"That's absurd. I don't even have your phone number," she exclaimed earning some dirty looks from the elder woman on her left whose attempt to sleep had failed pitifully.

"That will be taken care of the second this plane touches ground."

Klaus had been wishing in vain that his promise would be enough to calm her nerves for the moment. The woman just went right on. "Klaus, don't be ridiculous. I'm not asking you to tell me your whole life story, but right now, Stefan probably knows you better than I do!"

The mention of his former friend was like a punch to the face for Klaus. Although, to be fair, what Caroline had said was true. Stefan was a variable he'd all but forgotten about in his rush to get out of New Orleans. In front of him, his act would have to be perfect or they would be discovered, because all of his small tells had been previously revealed. On the other front though, Klaus was sure that unless extraordinary circumstances rose, his past was safe. At least the part that involved Stefan. It would hurt his image nearly as much as Klaus's if it ever came out.

"Stefan," he spat out the name. Where there'd once been friendship, now only something resembling hate remained. "Might know some things better than you, but I am sure that he will not be bringing them into discussion."

"Klaus," Caroline angry at refusal to communicate interrupted. "He warned me to stay away from you. Damon did too, before you can tell me it's about your falling out."

He sighed. "They were probably right and you should have listened. In that scenario, we would both be in different places right now." It hadn't been meant as a recrimination, but it had sounded like one regardless. However accusing his words had been, they held significant truth to them because if she hadn't clawed her way into his life, he would be drinking it away at Rousseau's and she would probably be wallowing in self-pity at her failed engagement, trying to wiggle out of going to Stefan's wedding without showing cowardice.

"Why did they say that? Why did you guys even fight?"

Dangerous questions with even more dangerous answers. But he had to give her something, she deserved it.

"My family. They were warning you against my family. Just like that cop wanted to do in the hospital." A small part of the truth was out.

"Your family?" she bewildered repeated after him. "What's wrong with your family?"

"They are not all good people," he exhaled, definite not to go into further detail. "And if you should, by some unfortunate stroke come across the Mikaelson name, you should heed the Salvatore's warning and run in the opposite direction."

"Well, there's one Mikaelson that I can promise I'm not running away from anytime soon."

Bad mistake, he wanted to tell her. Trusting even him could be fatal to an innocent woman like Caroline. Even if not physically, it might snuff out her spark, replace all of the good inside her heart with darkness. For some unknown reason, he remained silent.

When it became clear that he was not delving any deeper into the subject, she chose to change it. There were many other things to clear up concerning their fake relationships, things that made dwelling on his past redundant. Answers that would have to match to questions all couples faced. "Then how about how we met?"

Thankful to have escaped the subject of his family, Klaus was still confused by the woman's apparent dilemma. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean," he asked for clarifications.

"I'm talking about how we came to become a couple. It's not like I can tell them that I waltzed into New Orleans in search of a fake boyfriend that could push all of Stefan's buttons. We need something believable," a dreamy look appeared. "Something romantic that will make our relationship infinitely better than mine with Stefan ever was."

"I'm sure you will do a great job at inventing such a story. Whatever you come up with, I will support. The one advice I would give is to stick to the truth as much as possible. Becoming entangled in too many lies at a time could become exceedingly difficult and one of us is bound to slip eventually."

Once again, he was right, but he had still found a way to put the brunt of the work on her shoulders. Nonetheless, she was capable of inventing an outstanding love story; those romance books read in high-school were coming in useful after all.

After minutes of careful consideration, throughout Klaus appeared so lost inside his mind that he might as well had been building the schematics of a rocket, Caroline exclaimed, "That's it! I have it," startling half of the plane.

"I and the rest of the plane are dying to hear it," he feigned interest as best as he possibly could, masquerading his true feelings with sarcasm, but his mind kept drifting down gloomy avenues. A possibly somber future in which the ghosts of his past returned didn't help in the slightest.

Caroline was ready to call him out, but something held her back. Maybe it was the fact that he was trying for her, maybe it was the brokenness she'd glimpsed for a second or maybe Melanie's words _\- I respect him-_ were finally starting to make sense to her. So she delved into the concocted romance.

"After Stefan's," she still flinched at the words," affair with Valerie, I decided to travel, see cities I'd always longed for, but never had the time. One of them was New Orleans where I'd been staying for a few days when, due to some of my infamous bad luck, I got attacked by a psychopath. You're the one who saved me and accompanied me to the hospital for a check-up."

So far, almost everything was true, the embroidery of event beginning now.

"I took you out for a thank-you drink and that was how it all started. You showed me the beauties the city hid," her eyes glazed over, pure desire visible within them. "Cirque du Soleil was our first real date, you took me because I'd told you of my dream to see a trapeze act. That's when we first kissed."

More dates followed, in each and every single one Caroline putting a little piece of her heart. She was so passionate, soft feelings dominating her, yet she wore a steel armor that made her resilient, prepared to face and conquer life and its obstacles.

How Stefan could have cheated and let this woman go went beyond his powers of comprehension.

"So what do you think?" his opinion was finally requested. As if he could embellish and further such a cheesy, romantic tale.

"It's sweet enough to make me or pretty much anyone I know nauseous," he lightly teased. "It will do perfectly."

The corners of her eyes wrinkled, lips curling up in the biggest smile she'd ever given him. The one thing that shadowed the moment was the bandage on her temple, revealed because she'd put her hair up in a ponytail. A strong reminder of what had brought them together, of how Lucien had hurt her because of him and the dangers still lurking around.

Caroline must have spotted his orbs drifting to the side because her hand unconsciously reached for that place. Self-consciousness took over happiness, erasing the full-blown grin from the woman's face. "The doctor said that it won't leave a big scar," she felt compelled to defend her external beauty, fingers going to release the blonde locks.

A deft grip stopped her. "Don't. I wasn't thinking about the scar in the way you believe."

Avoiding eye contact, she mumbled, "I would understand if you did. You didn't like me when I looked my best, why would you now? It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it," she went for the hairband again, meeting the same obstacle.

An unknown force was pushing Klaus to reassure her, it being chalked up to remorse over Lucien hurting her because of him. Insecurity was not a becoming look on her. "The way you look had nothing to do with how I treated you," he forced his tongue to continue to articulate words to erase whatever woe was plaguing Caroline. "I think you would still be beautiful covered in dozens of scars because the source isn't the external façade, but the human being you are on the inside."

That was how the nicest words he'd said in a long time left his mouth, rattling both of them. They just stood there, his cold hand pressing against her own, emerald eyes melting into sapphire ones. Both longed to say more, disclose another piece of themselves, but neither dared.

Like all good things, the moment had to come to an end. The second they took control of their limbs, they pulled back, as burned.

Clearing her throat, Caroline spoke first. "The boyfriend Klaus might actually be the best I've ever had. I can't wait to see the faces of my friends when I tell them this," she tried to put it down to him getting into character.

"Well, you can tell them that he truly meant it," he easily knocked the air out of her lungs. Was he really pretending to be her boyfriend? Was this some sort of test-run? Or was it what he really meant?

After deliberation, she chose to believe the first two options because the latter sent her on a tailspin. No longer had she reached an agreement with her inner, which appeared hell-bent on choosing the last answer, that the pilot announced their landing.

The two buckled up, choosing to put to rest the conversation and mentally prepare for what was coming their way. It would be no walk in the park. They'd reached Mystic Falls, the place where their lie really began.

The most dreaded thing to both of them was, ironically, meeting Stefan. They were so engrossed in steadying their nerves, anger and wish for vengeance in Klaus's case, that neither noticed a small detail.

The ponytail still reigned, forgotten at the top of her head.

* * *

Compromise.

A word that neither Caroline nor Klaus were acquainted with.

Therefore, the moment they set foot out of the cramped airport, another argument started between them. This time, it was about where the man would spend his days in Mystic Fall. Caroline was vying to get him to stay at her place, like a normal boyfriend would, while Klaus was the advocate for a hotel room he'd already booked.

"Klaus!" she effectively shut up the annoying man. "What kind of boyfriend spends his time in a hotel when his girlfriend has a perfectly suitable two-bedroom apartment? This would be the kind of detail everyone noticed and ended up ruining our plan."

To the man's utter irritation there was no counterargument that would make sense, so he had to agree to stay with the blonde. Decisions like these were not to his liking. He was getting closer and closer to the woman, something he could not afford. On the other side, in two weeks he would be gone and Caroline would never hear from him again.

For her own protection.

Now, though, he was in Mystic Falls, he'd agreed to be her boyfriend and, in a town like this, everything became common knowledge among its residents. So his role had to be taken seriously, he comprehended that.

In the time he'd taken to clear his thoughts, the blonde had hailed a cab. Stepping into the shoes of her lover, he grabbed hold of the luggage and deposited it in the trunk, ignoring her protests. Being together was a two way street and both would have to abide by the unspoken rules society imposed on a couple.

Including him paying wherever they went. And helping this exaggeratingly independent with even the smallest feats. He smirked; this might turn up quite entertaining.

Finally, they arrived at their destination. A newly built, elegant building with glass doors and a small, private park, where a handful of kids were carelessly playing. Having fulfilled his obligation to pay for the cab under Caroline's deadly glare, he once again grabbed their suitcases and motioned for the woman to lead the way.

The elevator ride was exceedingly short for the blonde who was unwillingly remembered of the last time she'd been here.

Stefan had been living with her.

She had been about to get married.

The mahogany door in front of her appeared an obstacle impossible to surmount. It hurt to be back here. More than she cared to admit. A distraction presented itself in the form of a beautiful, ivory box bound together with a dirty white satin ribbon. Deep down, she knew what it was and it sent a pang to her heart. Steadying her trembling hands, she picked up the package, forced the key into the lock and entered.

No music was the first thing she noticed.

Eerie silence extended before them. All the lights were off, but she could see her purse, still where she'd left it that day. Footsteps guided her to her bedroom. The place was pristine. Perfectly pressed sheets, spotless carpet and no clothes but her own in the closet.

In a few words: no trace of Stefan or his fiancée.

Dropping the box to the bed, Caroline finally turned to the man who'd been quiet throughout her exploration. As if he understood her pain and respected it.

Plastering a smile to her face, she spoke, "Let me show you the guest bedroom."

He wordlessly agreed, following her. In spite of that, his lingering glance at the white box did not go unnoticed on the woman. However, he didn't push her for answers to satisfy her curiosity.

Like she'd tried to do in the hospital and plane.

In that moment it was decided that if he wished to share more of his life, she'd listen, but otherwise, his past was his business and no one else's. Screw Stefan and everyone else, if it hurt him as much as it did her to relieve those moments, she wouldn't force.

Now she understood how he must have felt. His mastery of self-control was outstanding since he hadn't gone off on her.

"This is it," she opened the door to a smaller room. The stale air made her cringe so she rushed to open a window, but Klaus did not complain in the slightest. "The bathroom is the door on the left, immediately after my bedroom and we'll be sharing it. The kitchen is right next to the living room although I doubt you'll find much in it," she shrugged apologetically. "Make yourself at home."

"I will," he assured and she had no doubt that he would do just that,

"I'm going to visit my mother later today, in case you want to come," his jaw clenched, so she quickly added," It's totally fine if you don't. The idea merely seemed like a good one to add credibility to our relationship."

Caroline believed that the notion of meeting her mother infuriated him when the truth was that he simply did not wish to drag more people than absolutely necessary into his life. It was a truth he could not speak without further explanations that he was not ready to give.

"I'll let you know," he responded eventually.

"Sure." The bright beam she conjured was clearly faked, like the one from before, but he chose not to call her out on it. This place must have been a painful reminder of Stefan's wrongdoings.

On that tone, she left him to get settled.

Having made it back to her room, her entire attention was drawn to the polarizing, immaculate square on her sheets. Tentatively, Caroline opened it. The content, though predictable, knocked the air out of her lungs.

Her wedding dress.

The gown she'd spent months searching for. A strapless, princess, long dress with a train dragging behind, crystals sewn into the fabric, forming an intricate pattern resembling an infinite. It had been meant to symbolize their eternal love, but now all it did was spur tears.

Unable to help it, she took it out, the soft material melting into her hand, positioned it over her body and looked in the mirror.

It was everything she'd dreamt of. And it was gone. Completely out of her reach.

Having your hopes crushed was horrible, but having to relieve it was proving to be crippling. If only a dress could do this, what effects would the wedding have on her?

Wrestling for control was a losing battle, muffled sobs uncontrollable as she collapsed to a heap on the floor in front of the looking glass, hugging the garment to her chest.

She must have lied there for a pretty long time, she could feel the wounds at her back protesting against the position, but she did not want to stand up just yet.

That meant facing the world. A world in which she'd come face to face with her mother, her friends, Stefan and, worst of all, Valerie, the woman who was busy living her dream.

So she remained there, silent tears continuing to roll down her cheeks.

* * *

In the other room, Klaus had arranged his clothes and was contemplating his choices: accompany Caroline or stay at home.

Neither sounded too appealing.

Common sense dictated that meeting all of her acquaintances was unavoidable eventually so he might as well cross one of the important names off that list.

Having made up his mind, he went to give her the news, but his knocking met no answer. He tried again, louder, calling out her name, but still nothing.

Disastrous night still fresh in his mind, an image of Caroline bleeding and unable to answer him appeared. An image he dared not ignore.

With that thought, he entered her room. Scanning the small space, he was surprised to find her down on her knees. Immediately, his eyes went to search for any intruders, but found none. And there was no valid reason for her to be on the ground.

On further inspection, he noticed her tiny frame was ferociously shaking and deduced that she was crying.

Approaching her tentatively, he finally saw the dress in her arms and knew it was the reason for her sour mood. What was not clear to him was how to proceed.

Should he leave her alone with her pain, give her time to process? Or was he supposed to comfort her? The second course of action sent him back in time. When he had actually been the one providing comfort to a young child. The memory still made goose bumps appear all over his skin. Back then, he'd been better at such acts, but the passage of time had made him colder, unable of the same levels of empathy.

No, it would be better to just leave her to straighten herself out.

With that in mind, small backwards steps were leading him back into the hallway, when a small voice stopped him.

"I remember how excited I was when I had finally found the perfect dress," Caroline continued to unblinkingly look in the mirror. Klaus hadn't expected her to be aware of his presence. "I couldn't wait to show it to Stefan, but he couldn't speak to me then, claimed he was busy. I wonder, was he with her? They must have had a great laugh at the expense of poor, clueless Caroline. Planning a wedding that was never going to happen, a wedding built on lies."

Slowly advancing, he paused when he was right beside her and dropped to his knees so they could be eye level. The reasons why he did not just ignore her and walk away, like he would anyone else, were lost on him. Just like the ones behind his following comforting sentences.

"Caroline, don't dwell on them. They're not worth your pain and tears." He knew them to be empty words. Hell, he'd been told the exact same things and ignored them, but maybe Caroline didn't have to. In her case, it would get better. Not like him, who would have to bear the weight of being the one responsible for those dearest to him dying. She was one of the few innocent, good people of the world who got hurt undeservingly.

"I know that. Deep down I really do, but I can't help but think that maybe I'm the one who drove Stefan away. If I hadn't been so engrossed in my work, if I had paid more attention to him, been a better girlfriend. Maybe he wouldn't have needed anyone else."

That knocked the air out of his lungs. How could she blame herself for Stefan's despicable deeds?

"Caroline, look at me," pools of emerald glistening with unshed tears turned to him. "You can't go around blaming yourself for his mistakes. I know Stefan, probably better than even you do," his throat constricted at the last time they'd been face to face and what had followed between them. "You were too good for him in the first place."

Wide orbs and gaping mouth faced him. If there was one thing she hadn't expected was this from Klaus. Actual kindness and regard to her suffering. The things he said of Stefan intrigued her, but she'd vowed not to press him, so she bit her tongue and nodded.

"Perhaps," she acquiesced," But that doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Time will," he laced his voice with a conviction he lacked. Truth be told, he'd been expecting the healing for years and it still hadn't graced him with its presence.

"I hope so," pink lips formed a minute smile. Inhaling, her hands uncurled from the material and went to her face, effectively wiping the tracks of her tears. "I've had enough weeping for now. Why did you come, because I'm sure you weren't searching for a bubbling mess in need of comforting?"

Immediately, the man caught on to the deviation of subject and embraced it.

"I was here to let you know that I've decided to accompany you to your mother."

Forest-green eyes lighted up at the news. Maybe she truly wouldn't have to face everyone alone. Maybe Klaus could actually offer some support, after all. "Thank you," and the gratitude wasn't reserved only for him going with her, but rather for everything he'd done so far.

He seemed to grasp that undertone because he nodded back at her. The lack of words, to Caroline's surprise, made a lot of sense – he was not a man of many words, but rather one of action- and that was fine.

"I'm going to clean up a bit, so I don't look like a disaster. My mother would see right through it," she stood up, allowing the garment to drop to the floor.

"I'll wait for you in the living room," Klaus gave her the space she hadn't asked for aloud and promptly exited.

The blonde was left alone, eyes still drawn to the wedding dress. Hesitating, she pondered throwing it out, but something held her back. She wasn't ready for that. It was a piece of her past she couldn't let go of.

Yet.

Soon she would, though.

Placing it back in the box, she stuffed it under the bed, away from sight. It wouldn't cause that much raw pain that way. Then, she headed to the bathroom, redid her makeup, ensured she was presentable for Liz Forbes and, along with Klaus, left the apartment.

"Listen," she began while starting the car. "My mom might be a little…overbearing, but it comes from a good place."

"I'll be fine," he smirked at her warning.

"You probably won't have to deal with her attention for too long, though," at his raised eyebrow she continued." She and I need to have words about why she believed it was ok to tell Stefan where I was, so he could send me his wedding invitation." At first, she'd perceived that a betrayal. Now, the anger caused by that had been slowly extinguished by other cares, but she still needed to know.

Smugness gave way to shock. Obviously, her mother wasn't winning any Parent of The Year Award in the near future.

A typical, small town house appeared right in front of where Caroline pulled up. The front garden was neatly trimmed, well-taken care of, a rocking chair reigning over the porch. Flashes of a younger, carefree Caroline running around and spending hours in that chair, perhaps reading or studying invaded his mind.

What was wrong with him? What had this young woman do to him to captivate his attention to such an extent, he had no idea. The one thing he was sure of was that he couldn't allow it to go any further.

For her sake.

Nervously straightening invisible wrinkles in her blouse, Caroline determinedly walked to the front door and knocked. A petite blonde with short, cropped hair greeted them, sky eyes enlarged at the sight of the younger version of herself standing before her. It was clear who she was, the resemblance between them uncanny.

"Caroline," she breathlessly whispered and thrust forward, into his presumed girlfriend's arms.

"Mom," emotion filled to the brim the noun and it poured into the hug. So big was the sentimental load that Klaus felt like he was intruding on it.

"I'm so happy you're back," the older woman pulled away and studied Caroline from head to toe. "You look good." And she did. So well that no one would've guessed that an hour ago, she'd been sobbing brokenly.

The elder Forbes finally glanced at him. Caroline noticed and cleared her throat, remembering the notion of polite introductions. "Mom, this is Klaus Mikaelson, my boyfriend. Klaus, meet Liz Forbes, my mother."

For a brief moment, Klaus believed he saw Liz's orbs narrow at his last name, but it was so quickly gone, replaced by a warm smile, that Klaus thought he must have imagined it. Paranoia brought on by fear of his family's dark legacy. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Forbes," his dutiful boyfriend voice took over and he could swear he hear Caroline softly snort at his respectfulness.

"Call me Liz," she strongly shook his hand. It was clear to Klaus that Liz Forbes was not a woman to be trifled with. Like mother, like daughter. "Please, come in."

An elegant living room, brimmed with bloomed potted plants and pictures of Caroline strewed over every wall greeted them. Dark- maroon wooden furniture clashed with beige walls, creating an air of luxuriousness and spaciousness. Good taste ran in the family.

"Have a seat," Liz invited. "I'll go make us some coffee. That way I can get to know more about the man who conquered my daughter's heart."

"There's no need for that, Mom," Caroline dismissed the offer and saved him from an interrogation. "We won't be staying very long. I only came to tell you I've returned to Mystic Falls and for some clarifications."

There was still some animosity in her voice, although Klaus was sure it hadn't been intended. Liz caught on to it because she lowered herself into the nearest chair.

"Why did you tell Stefan where I was?"

With that, the million dollar question was out. Judging by her shocked expression, Liz hadn't been expecting that. "You left without telling your friends anything, Caroline. You didn't see them like I did. They were worried sick about you," she tried to justify herself.

In return Caroline snorted. "Worried?!" her voice rose several octaves. "Mom, I didn't tell them for a reason. It wasn't just the whim of a spoiled girl, like some believe me to be," her mother appeared to wish to interrupt, but wasn't given the chance. "I caught my fiancée in bed with another woman, in my own house!"

Shock mixed with anguish, rendering Liz speechless. That detail had been successfully left out of every conversation she'd had with her daughter's friends.

"Caroline," she began when coherence returned. "I…I thought hearing from them would do you good, help put you back on your feet."

The long haired blonde shook her head, laughing incredulously. "Do me good? Mom, they sent me their freaking wedding invitation!"

The surprise on Liz's face made it evident that she hadn't been made privy to that. "I didn't know," she looked down. "I'm so sorry, Caroline. Never do I want to cause you pain."

Hurt shone brightly on her face, as did regret. Truth had been spoken by Liz and Caroline relented. She hadn't wanted to bring pain to her mother, the thought couldn't have been further away from her.

"You don't need to apologize, Mom," the comforting tone made Caroline grow more in his perception. "In fact, the dreaded invitation did bring a good change. It pulled me out of my slump. It brought me to Klaus."

Out of the blue, two sets of eyes turned to him. Under their scrutiny Klaus felt strangely exposed, but he masked it perfectly, with a charming grin. Speaking felt like too much of an intrusion on their moment. Something that neither would appreciate too much, he was sure.

"Then thank you," Liz addressed Klaus. "For being there for my daughter when I couldn't be."

Genuine gratitude shone brightly as Liz stood up, reducing the distance between them. When she started swaying on her feet. With superhuman reflexes, Klaus managed to reach her, wrapping his arms around her, in an effort to steady her.

"Mom, are you alright?" an alarmed Caroline yelled, immediately at his side.

Liz closed her eyes, shook her head approvingly and breathed deeply a few times. When she looked at them again, clarity had returned and she slowly disentangled herself from Klaus's grip. Still, the man remained attentive in case she lost her footing again.

"Yes, honey, just tired from work."

Caroline narrowed her eyes, studying her mother, worry obvious in every move. "Are you sure?" the doctor instincts were kicking in and telling her that maybe a check-up was needed, if only to be on the safe side.

"Caroline, don't worry. Once I've slept the night shift off, I'll be as good as new."

Reassuring as Liz might be, Caroline didn't appear entirely convinced, but knowing her mother as well as she did, she didn't press any further.

"You call me if you feel unwell again, ok?"

"Of course," Liz guaranteed and there was nothing Caroline could do about it. Stubbornness also ran in the family.

"Well, we'll leave you to rest, Mom," Caroline bid goodbye ignoring her mother's invitation to stay so she could make them something to eat. "I'll stop by early tomorrow morning to see how you fare."

Her mother rolled her eyes and mumbled something about the consequences of having a surgeon as a doctor, earning a feigned annoyed glare from Caroline. Her concern hadn't been wiped yet, but she forced herself not be become hypochondriac over her mom. Tiredness could do that to the human body and it was not a cause for worry.

However bickering the two women were, they were family, Klaus noted as they hugged. He'd never had that with his parents nor with most of his siblings and a small part of him, back when he'd been a child, had longed for this kind of unconditional love.

It had only truly come once, many years ago and had been yanked too soon from him.

"Now," Caroline declared once they were back in the car. "I'm starving. How would you feel about dinner?"

"It would be great," he responded.

"Sure thing, my perfect, fake boyfriend," she laughed loudly. "You were awesome. For a second I was actually starting to believe that you care for me."

It wasn't all an act, he wanted to say. By some twist of fate, he actually gave a damn about what happened to the annoying woman, but that was not a truth that would ever escape him lips. "I'm an outstanding actor," he stated instead, effectively nullifying every single second of their interaction.

Deep inside, Caroline felt a sharp jab in her heart with those words. Of course, he could care less about her. She would be delusional to think otherwise, but his behavior was conflicting. Words claimed time and time again he did not care, but actions said the opposite. In the end, she settled for believing what left his mouth.

It was easier in the long run, ensuring that she did not get hurt by believing in a fantasy.

"Good for us, right? No one will see through our act this way." she covered the unexplainable sadness with feigned happiness. "We're here," she announced as she pulled up in the parking lot of the Mystic Grill. "Mystic Falls' finest restaurant."

Klaus was quite skeptical of the place, judging from its outside exterior, but followed her inside nevertheless. As expected, it was unimpressive, but an appetizing smell did greet them. Quite the improvement from the cheap takeout and frozen food he'd been living on for the past months.

Something strange occurred though. Instead of leading them to a table, Caroline was stuck in place, an audible gasp reaching his ears. "What's wro…" he'd begun to ask, but his eyes followed her line of view. Everything made sense immediately.

What would be the odds? This woman certainly didn't have any good luck and his had run out a long time ago.

Stefan Salvatore was near the bar, laughing with a few people, his eyes softening when they landed on a skinny woman with dirty-blonde hair. Oblivious to the two pairs of prying eyes, he pulled her in and passionately kissed her, hands roaming over her back until they stopped in her hair.

Any doubt evaporated. Unless Stefan had been turned into Casanova and had wooed somebody else, that was Valerie Tulle. And upon pulling away, they'd spotted Klaus and Caroline.

The dreaded meeting was going to happen a lot sooner than expected.

Even worse, neither Caroline nor Klaus felt prepared for the emotional impact such an encounter yielded.


	8. Chapter 8

Stefan Salvatore.

The man she'd been deeply in love with. Still was, if she were entirely honest with herself. Though he'd ripped her heart out and stomped all over it.

His widened green eyes focused on her. A hesitant smile was starting to bloom on his face, but it was extinguished when he glanced behind her. The reason for that was obvious to Caroline: Klaus Mikaelson.

Her former fiancée advanced towards them and in two long strides rested in front of the blonde. Her breath caught in her throat. He was so close to her, she could feel his woodsy cologne, invading her nostrils. As a response, the woman noticed Klaus closing the space between them, his muscles so tightly coiled, he appeared ready to snap.

"Caroline," Stefan's soft voice greeted. "It's nice to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same, Stefan," pain laced her words although she'd tried to mask it.

Giving him credit, he actually looked hurt by the cold treatment he was deservedly being awarded. "Care, please, let me explain. You didn't give me a chance last time and never answered my calls or messages."

 _Like it was that easy_ , she wanted to yell at him. Just sweep every ounce of suffering, every sleepless night haunted by rivers of tears under the rug and speak with him as if nothing had changed. Did he honestly not understand how badly he'd hurt her?

"I responded to your wedding invitation, didn't I?" she coldly fired back. "I doubt there was anything more important than that."

Her former fiancée had to take a step back at the animosity he was met with.

"Caroline, we have to talk about what happened eventually. We were friends above all else for years and I hope we can be that once more, someday," his soft voice brought back their happiest memories, in which he would whisper sweet nothings to her in that exact same tone. Warmth was bubbling in her eyes and she would be damned if she let show.

The icing on the cake was Valerie Tulle making her way through the crowd to them. The blonde couldn't handle Valerie as well. It was too much. "Not today, Stefan," she wanted to walk past him towards a table when clammy, supple fingers clamped down on her wrist.

The completely wrong move.

It sent her back to that alley when Lucien had her trapped, ready to rape and maim her.

"Let go," her words shook under the building pressure of the flashbacks threatening to overwhelm her. Still, Stefan refused to listen, hell bent on getting her to hear his pointless explanations.

"Please," he begged once more, ignoring how she shook her hand to escape his grasp. Panic was starting to build however hard she tried to keep it at bay.

"I think Caroline told you to let go of her hand, _mate_ ," the familiar, commanding British accent left no room for discussion, especially as he stepped even closer, leaving merely inches between him and Stefan. Contempt and hatred were obvious in the last word, an unspoken threat accompanying it. Somehow, it made Caroline relax, feel safe again.

"Klaus," Stefan managed to lace his voice with the equal amount of aversion. "I'm pretty sure you have no right to interfere in my conversation with Caroline."

Judging by the dirty looks they were throwing, it was obvious that they despised each other. Confidence restored and taking advantage of Stefan focusing all of his attention on Klaus, the woman yanked her hand free. The tension was so thick between those two, that a fist fight appeared ready to break out. Wishing to avert a disaster, Caroline found her voice again.

"Actually, he does, Stefan," she cut in hoping her intervention would distract, not make matters worse. "He's my boyfriend and has every right to step in if you are trying to disrespect or harm me." With that, the cat was out of the bag, the lie now out into the open. Faster than either one of its perpetrators had conceived.

"Your boyfriend? Harm you?" he repeated after her as if trying to take it all in and believe it.

Like they were such impossible feats to achieve. Hilarious considering he was the one who'd hurt her most in the entire world.

"Yes, he's my boyfriend." Then, astonishing all three of them, she grabbed Klaus's hand. Thankfully, the man recovered quickly, limp fingers squeezing back in a false demonstration of love and affection.

"No," the green eyed man desperately mumbled. "Caroline, you can't be with him. He's dangerous. He and his family and the worst kind of people you'll ever meet. Please, listen to me. Klaus Mikaelson is nothing but bad news."

The man holding her hand tensed, lips a straight line, inhaling deeply, as if he was fighting against saying something in response to the accusations brought up by Stefan. The woman knew there to be some semblance of truth in the Salvatore's words. Even Klaus had admitted his family was not made up of saints, but she couldn't stay quiet and allow Stefan to insult him.

If Klaus wasn't going to defend himself then she will. Like he'd done on multiple occasions for her.

"You listen to me, Stefan. I trust Klaus. Stop wasting your breath on telling me about his family or his past. I don't care. All that matters is that I know that he would never hurt and deceive me like you did. So go to your future wife, be happy and let me live my life the way I want to with whomever I deem fit."

Where the strength behind those sentences had come from was a mystery to the blonde, but it seemed to do the trick because a resigned Stefan started to walk back to his small entourage, that Caroline noted, included Damon, when he turned to face her.

"When you find out the truth, when you know who Klaus Mikaelson really is, you'll regret this profoundly, Caroline. I just hope it won't be too late by then."

With those ominous words he finally left. Only then, did the woman realize that every single pair of eyes was turned to look at them. Sighing, she led Klaus to a secluded table at the back, hidden from prying eyes, aware that her return would be the town's major gossip these days. That and her controversial relationship.

Appetite ruined, she ordered the first thing her eyes landed on- a burger and fries – while Klaus relinquished food altogether ordering an entire bottle of whiskey.

Apparently meeting Stefan didn't only affect her, but Klaus as well. More than he'd like to admit it.

Choosing to remain silent for the moment, the woman poured herself a hefty helping of the spirit and gulped it down before repeating the action, hoping that the alcohol would ease the crippling heartache. With no luck.

"Are you sure you should be mixing that much liquor with your painkillers?" Klaus finally addressed her.

His fake-concern angered her because that was all it was: an act. Everything in her life had been and still was a lie. No one ever chose Caroline Forbes. No one ever loved Caroline Forbes. She was never the first choice.

"I'm a surgeon. I know what I'm doing," she snapped. "Stop acting like you care. There's nobody here to admire the perfect actor that you are." The harsh phrases were out before she could control them.

The worst part was that she knew they were wrong the second they had been uttered. She was lashing out at Klaus because of what Stefan had done to her. Taking all of her fury and resent out of Klaus.

It wasn't fair.

Still, the man chose not to respond, instead gulping down a drink of his own, his forehead still wrinkled, eyebrows scrunched together.

That's when it dawned on her. This- facing Stefan and being back in Mystic Falls- was just as hard for Klaus. He was doing it for her and in return she was yelling at him.

"I'm sorry," her voice dropped to a murmur, eyes downcast. "I shouldn't be flying off the handle with you. You don't deserve it."

A war seemed to wage on inside him before he finally addressed her again. "I do, Caroline, even though you don't know it yet," he sipped more of the amber liquid. "Stefan was wrong about many things, but not about me," determination shone brightly in his tempested blue orbs. "I am dangerous and so is my family. You need to know it. I am not who you think I am. Not even close."

 _And neither is Stefan,_ he refrained from adding.

Saying that appeared to have taken an immense toll on Klaus who looked 10 years older, struggling to talk about matters that had left wounds on his heart that, to this day, hadn't scarred, and still bled profoundly. Yet, she'd defended him so confidently and innocently at the same time that he felt compelled to tell her the truth. At least part of it, because the entire truth would never leave his lips.

"You've told me about your family before and I've seen firsthand how dangerous you really are, remember? But I don't think you're the monster Stefan tried to make you out to be."

There she went again, defying all expectations and daring to contradict him despite only knowing Klaus for a few days. "You're too innocent and trusting for your own good, Caroline. People will take advantage and hurt you, just like Stefan did, if you don't change that."

"Even if that were true, you'll be gone in two weeks, never to see my mistakes again, so there's no need to trouble yourself with them, right?"

Hope laid in that question. If he genuinely cared, like his behavior sometime showed, this was his chance to say something. She was handing it to him on a silver platter. One word could open the door to full-fledged friendship. Just one was enough for Caroline who waited with bated breath.

"Of course," Klaus stomped all over that moronic feeling and put an end to her wishful thinking. This was all an agreement to him. The reasons behind it were still a mystery to her, but it was clear that it was nothing more than him fulfilling some sort of self-imposed honorific task.

"Still," she bit her lip." I'd like to thank you for intervening back then. Not facing Stefan alone meant a lot to me."

"It was my duty as a boyfriend." So that had been fake as well, she deduced.

"Thank you anyways," she forced a smile.

Klaus was aware that her wide grin was false and that something he'd said had hurt her. Perhaps it had been his cold attitude, but he could not afford to allow her to feel anything for him, not even friendship. Tragedy- that was how relationships involving him ended and this young woman was too good for that.

Klaus Mikaelson refused to let her be reduced to ruins because of him. Like all others had been previously.

If that purpose entailed keeping her at arm's length, then so be it.

Feeling stupid for even thinking that they could be friends, Caroline masked her bitter disappointment by stuffing her mouth with greasy French fries.

Two mercury orbs studied her, reading her movements, the way he'd been taught as a teenager. Sadness and, oddly, resignation emanated from her slow movements and her refusal to meet his eyes. He must have been losing his mind because seeing her like this sent a pang to his heart.

It was hard to bear even though he justified it by telling himself that it was for her sake.

"Caroline, look," his tongue formed words before he could control them. Slowly, she stopped picking at her food and focused on him. Anticipating yet braced for another dose of his searing truth. "I…" Klaus stopped, searching for the right words. "What I said before, I didn't me-," he was interrupted by two deafening squeals, two familiar bodies crushing Caroline into a bone-breaking hug.

Elena and Bonnie.

Her two best friends in the world.

Who couldn't have had worse timing if they'd planned it.

However hard she longed to hear what Klaus had to say, Caroline had to admit that she'd missed them a lot. Sending an apologetic look in the man's direction, she melted into the hug, wrapping her arms tightly around them.

"We've missed you so much, Care," Elena spoke after they'd pulled away.

"I've missed you too. I'm sorry for leaving without letting you know and for not replying to your texts, but I needed some time."

"Nonsense," Bonnie waved her apology off. "If it had happened to me, I would still be a mess right now, especially with the wedding and all that."

"Bon!" Elena reprimanded, elbowing her in the ribs and making her eyes widened upon realizing exactly what she'd just said. "Care," Elena solemnly began," Do you want us to kick Stefan's ass for you?"

"We will totally do that," Bonnie seconded.

Their antics prompted a laugh from the blonde. They truly hadn't changed. "There's no need for that," she declined although her inner protested the decision. "I'm quite alright without him and, on that note, I'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Klaus Mikaelson."

Two pairs of inquisitive eyes turned to him immediately. "Pleased to meet you," he plastered his best charming smile, cursing and thanking them at the same time for interrupting. Whatever had come over him, this was a sign that screamed he should keep his mouth shut, get through these two weeks, ensure that nobody came looking for her and then leave.

For her safety. For her safety, he had to repeat it to burn it into his treacherous brain.

The brunette one narrowed her chocolate eyes and pointed an accusing finger at him. "I know you." Air was knocked out of his lungs. If she knew who he truly was then Caroline would too. That could only lead to her sending him away. Astonishingly, he didn't fancy that prospect. After spending time with her, loneliness appeared overwhelming.

"I'm sure we have never met before," the confidence he exuded lacked entirely underneath, because although he had never seen her in his life, there was no vouching for his family. And part of them was way worse than meeting Klaus.

"No, we haven't," Caroline and Bonnie's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Klaus braced himself to hear about another horrific story involving his family. "You were here in Mystic Falls a few months ago. Damon warned me to say away from you because you are dangerous," she protectively declared, looking out for her best friend.

Admirable.

At least now Klaus knew that Caroline would have somebody to protect her interests after he left. What was wrong with him? Why did her safety matter this much? Shaking those thoughts off and sending them to the back of his mind, he turned to look at Elena.

"The older Salvatore has been given incomplete fact so his opinion is slightly misguided," he defended himself while sticking as closely to the truth as possible.

"So you're saying that he's wrong?" now questioned Caroline's other friend.

He had to admire their diligence. They were good friends. He'd had some of those back in the day and Stefan had been one of them, but they'd all turned their back on him or abandoned him. However, right now was not the time for a walk down memory lane.

"All I'm saying is that Caroline has all the facts and still wishes to be with me, right sweetheart?"

The inquiry seemed to take Caroline by surprise. It was a gigantic lie. He hadn't told her anything, but she'd accepted and chosen to respect that. "Sure," she quickly recovered; reassuring her friends, while trying not to get lost in how he'd called her sweetheart and how intoxicating it had sounded. "Now, tell me more about what happened while I was gone," she made room for them to stay next to her.

For the next hour and a half, the blonde listened to her friends rage on about the opening of a new café and posh restaurant, their workplaces, who dumped who and the newest couples in the town.

An entirely boring conversation for Klaus who stayed quiet and polished off the bottle, receiving minimal help from the three girls and ignoring the murderous looks Stefan was throwing him from across the room.

If his former friend wanted to have a word with him, Klaus was open to the idea, but Stefan wouldn't be the only one with reproaches. Not even close. At this precise moment, all of Klaus's energy was focused into not marching up to Stefan Salvatore and punching him in the face. Repeatedly.

The only reason why he did not was Caroline.

He was giving up vengeance for the second time because of her.

All because he couldn't stomach the idea of hurting her.

Part of his brain must have short-circuited because these feelings were impossible to justify.

Finally, the incessant babbling stopped and Caroline took in her _boyfriend's_ mood. Teetering on the edge between sobriety and drunkenness, downing drink after drink and glaring at Stefan. His temper was volatile, at best, and Caroline had to commend him for holding it together this long, but she wouldn't push it.

Not when staying calm required him to gulp down alcohol.

"I'm tired. The flight was exhausting and I'm going to turn in, what do you say, Klaus?"

Liquid grey eyes made it clear that he didn't believe anything she'd just said, but still welcomed the idea. "That sounds great."

"I'll see you tomorrow, guys," the surgeon promised and bid them goodbye.

The crisp night air helped sober her up completely and that's when she finally noticed just how worn out Klaus appeared. Before, in the plane and at the Grill, she'd been too self-centered to take into account the black bags under his eyes and the weariness hid behind every move. It appeared to be his normal appearance. Tormented. There had to be more behind that than just Stefan, but she refrained herself from asking knowing that she wouldn't be getting a response.

Back at the Grill, before Elena and Bonnie had arrived, he'd been meaning to say something and had been cut off. Something told her that she wouldn't be hearing the continuation for a long time, if ever.

"You didn't need to do that," he offered once they were inside the car, earning a confused look. "Part with your friends. It was clear that you wished to stay longer."

What was wrong with this man? One minute he was cold as an iceberg, keeping her miles away from him and the next he cared about whether or not she hung out with her friends.

"I saw how you and Stefan were looking at each other," she offered as an excuse.

"Caroline," he sighed," While I'm here as your boyfriend, I promise I won't get into any fights with him unless he provokes me."

The sincere oath made her heart swell because she knew how much that must have cost him even if she didn't know the reason behind their feud and wouldn't ask. "Can you promise me one more thing?" she decided to push her luck.

"Ask and we'll see," his trust issues shone through his tired sigh.

"I want you to try and drink less while you're here with me," he opened his mouth to protest that he didn't have a drinking problem, but she continued before he could form one word. "I'm not saying you are an alcoholic or anything remotely close to it, Klaus, but it's not healthy. I know you think you are putting to rest those demons that you won't talk about, when the truth is that you are only destroying yourself."

The concern entwined in her voice stunned him. It had been so long since someone cared about what happened to him that he'd forgotten how it felt. Still, giving up alcohol entirely meant facing all of the horrors he'd endured every single second of the day. Most of those who'd only seen half of what he had were now prisoners in the clutches of drugs, never to escape again, wasting away on the streets, desperate for a fix. Broken. Beyond repair. So his liquor use wasn't that bad compared to that.

Not that he would ever allow himself to stoop this low. He would end it long before that occurred.

And neither would _he._ No, Klaus was enough of a disgrace now and if that ever happened, there was no question in Klaus's mind that the end wouldn't be brought on by his volition.

"I'm not sure I can make that promise, Caroline."

Sorrow filled her eyes as she, crestfallen, turned away from him. "I understand, but if you want to, I'm here. Whatever you need: someone to listen to you, someone with whom you can sit in silence or, in extreme cases, your annoying drinking partner who won't let you soak your liver in whiskey entirely."

There she went again. Compassionate. Kind. Generous. Better than the world deserved. Once again, she yanked what he'd thought to be an impossible promise. "I'll try. That's the best I can do."

"And it's more than enough for me," she beamed.

Upon arriving at her apartment, Caroline declared that she was to use the bathroom first, closing the door, leaving him with no company but his betraying thoughts.

Caroline haunted them.

What used to be only darkness now had specks of light because of her.

She was accomplishing the impossible –tearing down the shroud of obscurity surrounding him. Freeing him little by little. Making him wish to be a good man. Like he'd been once upon a time, when he still had a heart. Before _he'd_ torn it apart.

In a way, she reminded Klaus of _him._ The one he'd loved more than his own life. The same happiness, the same positivity in the face of adversity. How regardless of the curveball life threw at them, they still found a way to push through, preserving the goodness embedded deep into their hearts.

So young. Practically a child when he'd been ripped away from him.

A string of curses rasped through the thin walls, interrupting his reminiscences. They were coming from the bathroom. Without pause, he rose, knocking on the door. "Caroline, is everything alright?"

"No," she cursed again and by the sound of it, slammed something on the sink counter. "Can you please come in?"

The brief moment of hesitation was significantly shorter than it should have been as Klaus was unable to physically deny her his assistance. What he found inside made him stop in his tracks. Caroline was in nothing but her ivory, lace bra and a pair of short pajama pants, leaving exposed her porcelain white skin. Gulping, he forced his eyes not to wonder and concentrate on her eyes.

"I've been trying to change my bandages for 10 minutes, but I can't freaking reach them," frustration spiked her words. "Could you please help me?"

Only then did Klaus note the bottles of disinfectant, the clean gauze and bandages on the kitchen counter. "Of course," he'd tended to wounds before, no problems, but the fact that it was Caroline somehow made it harder. Klaus couldn't bear to see her hurt and only by glancing at her back he was reminded that it was his fault, making his blood boil.

In spite of all that, he went to stand behind her, removed the soft, curly, sun-kissed locks of hair out of his way and went for the two large bandages. One, he noted was matted with blood that had seeped through. Gently, he pulled it away, careful not to provoke further injury, but it was too late for that, apparently.

Sometime during the day, some of her stitches had popped. The confrontation with Stefan, when she'd tried to break free being his best guess. The urge to go and beat him to a pulp arose –he should bleed just like her.

"Part of your wound has opened up again. I think we should do to a hospital to have it properly cared for," he gloomily announced.

Pouring a large amount of hydrogen peroxide on a piece of gauze, she handed it to him. "Wipe the blood off so that I can see." There was no way that she was going to the hospital if she could avoid it. Everyone knew her there, and they were bound to announce her mother of her injuries. That was the last thing she wanted to occur.

Complying, the man rubbed it all over the wound. Stinging pain erupted and a wince left her mouth. Immediately, Klaus pulled back. "No," she chastised him. "Don't stop until it's completely clean."

After he resumed his work, Caroline stopped all shows of pain, remaining as still as a statue. Once he announced he was done, she turned to give herself a critical inspection in the mirror.

"Only two of three stiches are needed to close this," she rummaged through her first aid kid and pulled out some surgical needle and thread. "Here," she placed them in his hands.

Gaping, Klaus waited for confirmation of what she was asking of him. They had no anesthetic save from her painkillers that he was sure she wasn't taking according to the doctor's recommendations. His indecision must have been mistaken for a refusal, based on the death glare she was giving him.

"For Christ's sake, I would do it myself if I could reach, Klaus. It's fine, however you can do it, but I'm not going to the hospital."

Caroline left no room for further discussion, but his hand still hesitated above the wound. It wasn't that he didn't know how to close such an injury, he'd had plenty of experience, but he simply didn't want to cause her pain. Still, if he didn't he would be failing her so he complied.

Eyes closed in pain, back muscles tight and fists clenched around the sink's veneer, she still didn't let out more than a silent whimper. It was quite impressive, but not willing to prolong her pain he hurried and changed the bandages on the other wound as well.

"All done," he announced when he was over.

"Thank you very much," a raspy undertone brought on by pain. "You did it almost perfectly, one could say that this wasn't your first rodeo," she complimented.

"It wasn't," and with that he offered the first piece of voluntary information about his past. A quite shocking one because who tended to wounds without being a doctor?

"Lucky us then," she said instead of pursuing the subject. If he wished to say more, he would.

He didn't.

A black cloud came over him and he retreated to his bedroom, offering nothing more than an empty 'good night'.

Doing the same, she climbed into bed with a book, falling asleep shortly because of the painkiller she'd eventually given in and taken. The pill mixed with the alcohol still in her system lulled her into a peaceful sleep, one where no nightmare could reach her.

Unfortunately, it didn't last.

A loud scream woke her up. Panic sent her heart into a tailspin, pounding hard enough to almost escape her chest. Another wail, quieter this time, followed shortly, demolishing the theory that it could have been imaginary.

No, this was crystal clear. Somebody was crying out for help.

It was coming from Klaus's room, she realized terrified.

One more howl made her skin break out in goose bumps. Caroline knew that voice.

It was, in fact, Klaus.

She shuddered at what might have made him screech like this, but still braced herself to go, find out and help him however she could.

All she hoped was that everything was alright. Losing Klaus right in her apartment was simply something one did not come out from unscathed.

Be alive, she begged before opening the door.

Just _be alive._


	9. Chapter 9

_One year ago_

Syria. A country in ruins.

Aleppo. A city of dust.

The place God seemed to have forsaken.

Every day dozens of people fell victims to the cruelty of war. Some were merely collateral damage. Children. Women. Innocents whose blood painted the city walls and drenched the desert.

Two years. Two years had passed since he'd been deployed here. In that time, he'd lost the person who'd mattered most to him. The one who brought some modicum of happiness to his pathetic excuse of an existence.

Gone. Light extinguished from his eyes right before him.

Loss and helplessness. Those were the only real faces of war. There were no heroes, only lucky ones who managed to draw yet another breath, lived to see the sun break in the morning once more. If anyone claimed otherwise, they hadn't been thrown into the midst of battle like he had.

"You ready?" came a familiar voice.

Marcel. The only friend he still had. The one who'd followed him into hell and remained by his side throughout his tumultuous journey.

"I'll be out in a second," Klaus promised, remaining alone in the tent.

Protective gear in place, bulletproof vest shielding his torso, he grabbed his automatic gun and threw a few spare clips into his backpack. He was ready to go. Another recon mission inside and on the outskirts of Aleppo. Another gamble with the Devil.

There was no telling when one could walk into an ISIS ambush. It could be over in the blink of an eye, like he'd seen it happen on countless occasions.

Still, it was his duty to push on. Bury all of the atrocities he saw everyday deep within his heart, where they couldn't hinder his reactions. He owed it to his comrades to give it his all and, most importantly, to these poor people.

He was paying for _his_ actions. Desperately fighting to make it right. However impossible that may be.

Stepping out from the false safety the combat tent provided, into the blinding, scorching sun, he saw the Humvee waiting for him. Marcel and three other guys were cracking jokes while waiting for him. Their good mood was mostly a front used to hide true feelings, but Klaus never called them out on it. Instead, he chose to remain silent in the back of the bulletproof truck. Everyone coped differently, after all.

The city was eerily quiet as they navigated the streets. Only the occasional wail of a starving child and the cries of his powerless mother rasped through. Entire buildings torn apart by bombs, the sickening smell of death and burned flesh remaining embedded inside, invading his nostrils.

All of a sudden, a young boy, no more than 8 appeared in front of them. Dirty, shredded clothes, bones visible, an effect of the malnourishment most Syrian kids endured, a few cuts covering his face and torso. He was crying, repeating over and over an Arabic word Klaus had learned meant mother.

"We have to check if we can help him," declared Marcel from the front.

Compassion was one of his friend's fortes and apparently, the other soldiers accompanying him felt the same because they stopped the engine. Even though it wasn't in their mission description to do such thing.

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea," he skeptically added, remembering what had transpired the last time his squad went off book.

Death.

Moreover, his gut screamed that something was wrong, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what.

"It's just a child, Klaus, don't worry," assured Marcel. "You can wait here while we check to see what's going on."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Klaus continued.

"Oh, stop it with the doom and gloom. We'll be back in a moment."

With that, Klaus's friend slammed the door and, along with the other soldiers, approached the kid. The poor thing was wrecked with sobs and kept pointing east, towards the town's exit. They were too far to actually understand the conversation that had lengthened unexplainably.

Finally, his friends stood up, but imagine Klaus's surprise when Marcel grabbed a hold of the frail hand, guiding the boy to their vehicle.

Were they insane? Mercy didn't justify this.

Immediately, he got out and positioned himself between the Humvee and his friend, knowing that the other soldiers would not interfere. They knew him too well to get mixed into his business.

"No," Klaus swiftly declared. "We are not taking the boy with us."

"I'm not saying that we should bring him into our camp," Marcel responded. "His mother was taken about an hour ago towards the town's exit. We're just going to look for her and if she's nowhere to be found, we bring him back here."

It sounded simple enough, but in a war zone nothing was as easy as it sounded.

"No."

His refusal seemed to anger his friend who inhaled deeply to calm down. "We're going there anyway! Why shouldn't we help him?"

A million reasons crossed Klaus's mind. The most important one was the increasing number of child terrorists, grown within an ISIS faction, who didn't bat an eyelash before pulling the trigger. That and the nagging feeling that he was missing something crucial. The situation simply didn't feel right to him.

"You know as well as I do that children can be as just as dangerous as adults here."

"Klaus," relentless obsidian orbs fixated him. "He's clean, we checked. Besides," he pushed the kid in front of him. "Does he look like a crazed ISIS member to you?"

"Marcel," he tried again, but was interrupted.

"Look at him! He's barely 7 years old and has had to watch his father burn, while his older brother was beheaded. He just wants to see his mother again," liquid shone in the onyx orbs. "Can you really deny him that? Are there really no feelings left in that heart of yours, Klaus? Tell me, if it was your younger brother here, in this position, would you want me to turn my back on him?"

That was a low blow, he wanted to tell Marcel. The killing blow. The black-haired man was right, though. He was being cruel, but living in this place had made him this way. A very thin line separated life from death and innocent from guilty here. But he was done fighting his best friend over this. Although, his heart screamed that this would not end well.

"Suit yourself," he threw back, climbing in the back of the Humvee wordlessly.

He and Marcel would have a conversation about this when they returned to camp.

His friend sat in the back, this time, along with the boy, Saleem, Klaus gathered, who was told to look outside and tell them if he saw his mother. For a brief second, weary, blue eyes met small, brown ones. What he saw made the hairs on the back of his head stand up. There had been an evil glint, a smugness of sorts that was quickly replaced by a broken weeping.

So fast was the transition that Klaus began to question whether or not he'd imagined it.

Minutes trickled by, they were approaching the town's eastern exit and still hadn't met any sign of life other than Saleem. Strange, at best.

"Let's go that way too," Marcel pointed at a string of abandoned buildings that separated Aleppo from the desert.

They were empty as well.

Just as Marcel was about to give up, Saleem pointed at an old terrain vehicle, frantically yelling in Arabic. The one member of their group who spoke the language translated quickly. "He claims that's the car that took his mom."

Alarm bells rang in Klaus's mind.

The car was a few hundred meters outside Aleppo, in the Syrian desert. If the boy wasn't wrong, why would the terrorists abandon a perfectly functional car?

"Let's go check it out," Marcel proposed after a few seconds of deliberation. All of the other soldiers agreed, killed the engine and got out their weapons.

"This is a bad idea," Klaus tried to warn again.

"Then stay here, we need someone to remain with Saleem anyway," a confident voice all but ordered. "If there's trouble, you can do your thing and save us all."

The British man wished to argue more, but knew that there was no changing Marcel's mind. He was capable of going there alone, should he believe that to be the right thing to do.

So he complied, remained there, next to the Syrian child and observed his friends. In formation, they approached the automobile. There was nothing but golden grains of sand under their feet, no sound rasping through. It was like he'd been drawn into a silent movie. He was the spectator, aware that something bad was about to happen but powerless to do anything about it.

"Dead," Saleem mumbled under his breath so quietly Klaus thought it had been a figment of his imagination.

"What did you just say?" he asked, forgetting that the boy didn't speak English.

"Dead," he exclaimed cackling maniacally, distorting his innocuous features. Before Klaus could regain control of his limbs, recover from the shock, Saleem had jumped outside the car and inside Aleppo.

An ambush.

It was clear now that this had indeed been an ambush and they'd walked right into it.

Getting out of the Humvee as well, he studied his surroundings. There was no sign of another person, but they could be hidden in one of the buildings, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

But why the car? Had it been meant to lure them away from the safety of their vehicle? If so, why hadn't they attacked already?

Once more, he looked towards Marcel, now 50 meters from the abandoned SUV. Klaus knew he was missing something. He replayed the entire scene over and over, aware that Saleem was probably the key.

The only odd thing was his reaction before escaping. He had been sure that they were dead people, but why? There was no one in sight to kill them, so why the certainty?

And that's when it hit him.

Landmines.

They could murder without anyone being present. Silent killers who gave no warning.

Klaus broke into a run, in a minefield, his own safety long forgotten, desperate to warn his teammates. "Marcel!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, multiple times, but to no avail. He was too far away. Finally, he was able to get his attention.

"Stop moving," he swung his hands up and down. "All of you, stop moving!" Upon their confusion, he continued. "Mines! The land is mined!"

Bewilderment gave way to panic. Marcel was the only one who remained glued to the spot, heeding his warning, while the others started to run recklessly in an attempt to reach safety. Slowly, Klaus tried to advance, when a click cut the air out of his lungs.

James, one of his fellow mates had stepped on one of the mines, stopping them all in their tracks. All they could hear was their own rugged breathing, hearts ponding to escape their chests.

"Get away from here, all of you!" James shouted, his voice quivering under the realization that this was over for him.

And it was true. They had no more than seconds, maybe a minute if they were lucky, before it went off. Klaus wished there was something he could do, try to disarm it, but they'd come across ISIS landmines before, they couldn't be disarmed. They were top of the line. Where the weapons supply came for, he shuddered to think.

So they all started running back, forgetting about the chance that they could step on another mine anytime. He was close, so close to the Humvee, almost out of the range of explosion, when Klaus turned back to check for his friends. They were behind, but if luck remained on their side, they could make it.

In the exact moment he looked ahead again, the blast occurred. A blinding flash erupted from where James had stood, the ground shook and a deafening sound reverberated all over Aleppo's outskirts.

The force of the explosion sent him tumbling to the ground, the searing heat burning through some of the material of his pants. It felt like scalding water had been poured all over him.

Recovering from the shock, shaking his head to regain some clarity and refusing to take into consideration the debilitating headache flaring up, Klaus pushed himself to his feet. One glance at his back and he felt a dagger run through his heart.

 _Not again._

The picture before him appeared taken out of a gruesome horror movie. Blood had soaked the arid ground, turning it a nauseating crimson. Derek, the man closest to him, was motionless, his head slammed into the ground, skull cracked open, blood and brain matter forming a halo around him.

Unable to check on Marcel yet, Klaus focused on James, or better, what had remained of him. An array of severed limbs and a mixture of viscera was all that was left.

That's when a groan reached him. The first sign of life. Immediately, he snapped his gaze in his best friend's direction. Sure enough, his chest was slowly moving up and down.

His best friend was alive. Alive.

Hope swelled in his chest.

Maybe this time it would be different, after all. Maybe Klaus could save him.

As he got nearer, he realized that would be harder to accomplish than he'd originally believed. Marcel's left leg and arm had been cut off, right above the elbow and knee joints. The stumps were bleeding profoundly, an enormous pool of crimson already circling his friend.

Immediately, Klaus dropped to his knees.

"Marcel, Marcel, please you have to wake up," he tried to rouse his friend. Tired, black irises did open to slits to look at him.

"You're ok," was the first thing out of his mouth, a small smile gracing his face. There he was, fighting to remain conscious and his leading thoughts went to Klaus's wellbeing.

"You will be too," reassured Klaus.

"No, I won't ," he coughed weakly. "You were right. This was an ambush. I'm sorry."

"No, don't talk, save your breath."

Weakly, Marcel glanced at the carnage around. "They're all dead, aren't they? It's all my fault," two tears rolled down his face and he turned away to hide it. "I deserve this."

"No," Klaus screamed, tears of his own threatening to fall. "Don't talk like this! None of this is your fault, ISIS did this!" He honestly believed all that he was telling his fallen friend, but he doubted that Marcel believed him. "I have to stop the bleeding, Marcel and you need to stop talking, preserve your strength."

Without his first aid kit that was still inside the car, Klaus had to improvise. Tearing a few pieces of fabric from his jacket, he made two tourniquets and wrapped them as tightly as he could above the stumps. But this was a provisory solution; they had to make it back to the camp, back to a doctor.

"We have to get back to the truck," he tried to inspire some sort of reaction from Marcel who hadn't said a word since taking the blame for all of this. Not one to give up, Klaus wrapped Marcel's right arm around his shoulder and wrestled to get the motionless man into a standing position. "You have to help me, Marcel. Please," he all but begged.

Eventually, the other man shifted his leg, struggling to help Klaus ease him up. Even then, virtually all of his weight was being carried. Halfway to the car, Marcel all but went limp in his arms, eyes mere slits.

"No, you don't get to fall asleep, Marcel! Wake up!" Klaus roared at the top of his lungs. "I swear to God I will carry you if you don't."

And he meant it. There was no way he was losing another dear one in this cursed Syrian desert.

"Bridal style, huh?" Marcel found it in him to crack a joke and, with his last bit of energy pushed forward with Klaus's help.

They were so close, the finish line was within view. All of a sudden, a red dot appeared on Marcel's forehead. The other soldier knew what it was immediately.

A sniper.

There was more to the ambush than just the landmines. The terrorists clearly did not wish them to make it out alive. Trained reflexes kicked in and the sandy-haired man sent them both to the floor, just as the bullet left the rifle. He had been in time to save Marcel from the bullet meant to end his life, but hadn't been fast enough to push them both out of the way entirely.

To be more specific, a bullet embedded itself deeply into his arm, right below the shoulder, where the Kevlar's protection ended. Crippling pain erupted from his right bicep, hand immediately covering the injury to stem the bleeding, remaining flat on the ground.

"Stay down, Marcel, don't move!" Not that the man could, even if he wanted to.

Clouded pools of aquamarine scanned the near-by roofs and windows to try and catch a glimpse of their attacker. Just as he was about to give up, the sun cast its rays onto the ghost city of Aleppo. The steel of the firearm reflected, making the bastard's location known.

Cursing at the pain running through his hand, he pulled out his own weapon. "The moment I start to fire, you grab a hold of me and we get moving," Marcel looked at him with skeptical eyes. "We have to get to that car. It's the only chance we've got."

As if reading his lips through his scope, the shooter fired at the tires of their Humvee, rendering it useless. With it, their odds of escaping were down to near zero. Even if Klaus could, by some miracle, carry them both to camp, there was no way he could also take out hostiles at the same time.

It wasn't humanely possible.

"I guess this is it, friend," Marcel acknowledged the dire situation first.

"No, don't talk like that," anguish laced his voice. "I'll figure it out, I promise. I'll get you out of here." Ideas continued to flash through his foggy brain. None were even remotely achievable.

"No, you won't," another cough wracked his weak body, this time coppery liquid slipping through his lips. "And that's alright, Klaus. You've done everything humanly possible."

"No!" he roared, vision blurred from salty liquid. "I refuse to accept that, Marcel!"

"Listen to me, not both of us have to die today," dilated pupils fixated him with more clarity than Klaus had seen since the mine exploded. "Give me your spare weapon," he extended his right hand.

Marcel's plan was starting to make sense to Klaus. It was downright suicide.

"It's already over for me," he continued upon catching his friend's hesitation. "Do it for me, live through this, get out of this hellhole. Stop punishing yourself for your father's wrongdoings. This is the last thing I'll ask of you. For our years of friendship, promise me this, Klaus."

"I…" Klaus could feel warmth staining his cheeks.

"Promise me."

"I promise," he rasped out eliciting a real smile from his friend whose fingers were still beckoning for the weapon. Reluctantly, Klaus complied, handing him the gun.

"Good thing it wasn't my right arm," Marcel grinned, the smirk contrasting with the tears swimming in his eyes.

The other soldier tried to respond in the same way, but found himself unable to. All that existed in his brain was that this was Marcel's last joke. The final time he would look into those defiant charcoal eyes and receive a response.

"It was an honor to be your friend and fight by your side, Klaus. You're a way better man than you give yourself credit for. I hope someone will come into your life one day and make you see that."

Saying goodbye to his best friend was like abandoning a part of himself. Fighting this senseless war had cost him the remaining pieces of his soul. Why God had to take everything away from him was a mystery, though. It was like he'd been born cursed.

If he thought it through and really considered the circumstances of his birth, there may have been something to that.

He was still paying for his family's sins.

"Likewise, my friend. I couldn't have asked for a better companion, a better brother. And this, this sacrifice stands proof to that."

Frustration grabbed a hold of Klaus's body. They were pinned on the ground, unable to lift a muscle for fear of becoming targets. He could not even hug his best friend goodbye.

"Now, go!" Marcel commanded, leaving no room to argue, lifting a steady hand and firing a round in the direction of the shooter.

Taking advantage of the distraction provided, Klaus risked one last glance at his friend before running towards Aleppo, the road to the camp etched into his mind.

Just as he'd made it past the second building, the gunshots came to a halt. His breathing stopped for a second because he knew what that meant.

One of the men engaged in the gunfight had fallen. And the chances of it being the terrorist were too low to take into account.

 _Farewell, my friend. We'll see each other again one day._

Not allowed even a second to grieve, Klaus heard footsteps closely behind him. They were following him. A bullet wheezed dangerously close to his ear, blood continuing to seep through his makeshift bandage and his head felt like a bomb of its own had taken residence inside.

However, he refused to give up. That would be the same as throwing Marcel's surrender to the garbage. He would never do that.

The pattering grew closer and closer to him and the soldier knew they were slowly gaining on him, his tired body unable to compare to their speed.

Aware that extending the pursuit would be in his disfavor, he used his last available resources of energy and taking advantage of the adrenaline coursing through his veins, Klaus took a sharp turn to the left, seeking shelter in one of Aleppo's ruined houses.

It had been lived in until recently, fact evident by the table reigning in the middle of the main room. It was still set for three people. Not one to let the opportunity slip, he drank a glass of water, ignoring the food, aware that he would not be able to stomach it anyway.

Going to the bathroom, he tried to search for some medication or at least a proper bandage for his injury. In vain. The people here were too poor to afford such luxuries. Getting hurt meant, in most cases, putting a piece of fabric on top of it and praying for God to spare a miracle.

Too bad that He'd run all out of them a while back.

Climbing the stairs, Klaus searched for a vantage point. A window from where he could look outside and not be spotted. In what had been the child's room, judging by the carved wooden toys, he found a small, dirty glass that afforded sight directly onto Aleppo's main road.

Perfect.

Luck was, for once, on his side.

He would wait for nightfall here. Recuperate some of his strength and then try to maneuver through the streets. Dangers increased after dusk, ISIS sending more patrols, but at least the dark would somewhat cloak him.

Minutes went by, turning into hours and Klaus fought against the urge to fall asleep. He had to remain alert in case his enemies decided to go house by house in his search. A US Army soldier was an extremely valuable prisoner, after all.

His worries were not entirely misguided because just as the sun had started to go down, a group of about 10 terrorists, cloaked in combat attire and carrying heavy, automatic rifles passed right under his window.

What made his blood boil was Saleem, proudly marching by their side, AK-47 in his small, child hands. An unworldly sight that was way too common in Syria, unfortunately. Fists clenched, he fought with every fiber of his body against going right up to them and putting a bullet in that boy's forehead.

It wasn't worth it.

There were thousands ready to take his place.

All he would be doing was discard the life his best friend had gifted him.

So he sucked a deep breath in and stepped away from the glass, waiting for them to move past his hideout.

After they were a safe distance away and night had enveloped the city in obscurity, Klaus finally took out his gun and exited the house. The trek back to the camp was long, strenuous and by the time he made it back, he felt lightheaded, pain radiating from every muscle.

What mattered was that by divine mercy, he hadn't run into anybody else. Perhaps it had been Marcel and _him_ watching over him from above or maybe God had simply satiated his thirst for blood today.

Collapsing into the medical tent, Klaus surrendered control, welcoming the blissful oblivion anesthetics and pain medication provided. It helped him forget. It made him comfortably numb.

After that fateful day, he was medically discharged from the US Army, although the wounds he'd sustained presented no hindrance. Klaus knew they worried about his mental health. Who wouldn't have serious issues after being through what he'd been through, after all? So they gave him therapists to see, but he canceled every single appointment.

The cherry on top was receiving a Purple Heart commendation for his outstanding service. All the way through the ceremony he wanted to laugh at the idiotic situation. He was no hero. All he'd done was watch powerlessly as people died in his arms, some forfeiting their lives to save him.

Those worthy of the medal were long gone.

Still, he did not allow himself to slip from reality entirely. Klaus had made a promise to Marcel that he would live and he intended to respect it. So he kept himself afloat with the help of liquor, tethering on the edge of addiction, but never fully giving into it.

His subsequent visit to Mystic Falls, to see one of his former best friends, ended in catastrophe. It nearly turned into the final straw that sent him spiraling down a road of no return. Only by sheer determination did he remain sane after the consequences of the reunion with Stefan Salvatore.

Walking into Mystic Fall, Klaus immediately headed for the Salvatore residence. It wasn't a courtesy visit and he did not wish to prolong this dreaded task.

The older brother opened the door and, with suspicious turquoise eyes, allowed him inside, telling him that Stefan was in the living room and showed him the way.

Imagine his surprise when he found the green-eyed man on the couch, passionately kissing a blonde woman. Clearing his throat, he made his presence known. Reluctantly, two pairs of orbs turned to look at him. Upon seeing the unknown guest, the woman freed herself from Stefan's embrace, a rose hue all over her cheeks.

"Hello, Stefan," he tensely greeted. "Long time no see."

"Klaus," the other man stood up, positioning himself in front of his presumed girlfriend. "What are you doing here?"

The cold welcome was expected, but bothered the British man nonetheless. He didn't want to be here anymore than Stefan, but he had felt it his duty to do so.

"Relax, Stefan. I'm not here to discuss matters of the past, but merely to inform you of something."

"Who is this?" a clear voice cut in, drawing attention and clearly demanding an answer.

"This is Klaus Mikaelson, a…" he hesitated. "An old acquaintance from when I lived in New Orleans."

Intelligent eyes narrowed at the introduction. It was more that obvious that she'd caught on to the fact that there was a lot bubbling under the surface with these two and that it was waiting to explode. So, she chose to ignore it and not push.

"I'm Caroline Forbes, Stefan's girlfriend," she introduced herself, extending her hand. The man glued his grey eyes to the slender fingers, but didn't make any move to acknowledge them.

"I'm here to speak with you, Stefan, alone," he pointedly gazed at the blonde whose nostrils flared at the blatant disrespect.

He wasn't here to make friends. After his mission was done, he would walk away, never to return again.

Caroline opened her mouth, to set the impolite man straight when a gentle hand on her shoulder stopped the spiteful words. Her boyfriend was practically begging her to go, so she did, without another word.

Finally by themselves, Stefan addressed him first. Probably because words were coming harder and harder to the former soldier.

"She's gone. What are you doing here Klaus? I thought it was clear you were not welcomed in my house."

"Trust me, I don't want to be here anymore than you wish me here," he fired back in the same tone, raised eyebrow daring Stefan to go down that line of conversation. He didn't. "I came here to tell you something I believed you deserve to know."

The Salvatore remained silent, choosing not to spare more sentences than necessary on Klaus. So the latter decided to just come out and say it. No need to sugarcoat it.

"Marcel is dead."

A gasp echoed in the room. Shock left no room for words. Instead, Stefan collapsed onto the vintage, sculpted armchair, eyes glistening as comprehension that one of his best buddies in the world had left the Earth for good dawned on him.

"He chose to stay with me, extend his tour," Klaus developed. "We walked into an ambush and he was killed." As consideration to their tight friendship, the gory details were left out. "He died saving me. Marcel was a hero. I just thought you need to know that."

The Mikaelson brother wanted to leave the man alone with his grief and was halfway to the door when a choked voice stopped him.

"Everyone around you just keeps dying, don't they? Good people, loyal people, they end up the same way. All because of you."

There was real anger hiding behind those accusations. Klaus didn't bother defending himself. Stefan was right. But what could he do? If there was a way to trade places with them, he would, without second thought.

"Why is it never you? You were the one who should have been killed, not Marcel! All he did was stand by you, even when no one else would."

Tears of his own were threatening to spill, so Klaus remained with his back turned to the grieving man.

"You're right," was all he murmured before walking out of the room and house, never to see Stefan again.

That night, as he was on his way back to New Orleans, the town that had been his home, but was now only a tormenting reminder of what had once been, ready to put to rest the howling demons in his head with the help of his trusted friend- bourbon –,Stefan had his own way of handling his pain.

Making the responsible one pay was how he coped.

So he took out his phone and dialed a number he still knew by heart. Years of friendship could not be simply thrown out the drain, after all.

"Hello," he greeted curtly.

"Stefan?" was the surprised reply. "I never thought I would hear from you again. Why are you calling me?"

His conscience gave him pause for a few seconds. Perhaps he was wrong, going down the same immoral path he'd just come back from. It was quickly extinguished by a voice in his head, telling him that this was justice.

Klaus deserved it.

"Klaus has finally returned. I think he's going back to New Orleans."

A sadistic laugh made his skin turn to goose bumps. "Thank you, my friend! I'll let _him_ know. Vengeance will be mine, at last. He will get what's just. "

With that, he ended the call, doubt still plaguing his mind. He shook it off, though. Whatever happened, he wouldn't be to blame.

Lucien Castle and _he_ were the ones who would finally take the pound of flesh Klaus Mikaelson owed.

* * *

 **A/N I would like to thank every single person who took the time to leave a review or add this story to their follow/favourite list. The fact that you seem to be enjoying it so far gives me great joy. You have no idea how much it means to me and how much motivation it brings me to make the story better, more enjoyable for you guys. I hope you liked this chaper and the small insight into Klaus's past. There will be more to come in the following chapters. Once again, thank you very much for standing by me and my story.**


	10. Chapter 10

Darkness.

Initially, it was all Caroline could make out upon entering Klaus's room, barely any hint of the anemic moonlight entering through the drawn curtains. Merely enough not to fumble around blindly. So, wide, terrified green eyes darted to every corner of the room, searching for any intruders.

None were to be found.

A heavy breath of relief was released that no murderous psychopath had decided to cross her threshold, at least for the night. That feeling was short lived though, because another desperate roar rasped through the night's thick blanket of silence, making her hair stand on end.

It had undoubtedly come from Klaus's lips.

Focusing all of her attention on him, Caroline could just make out his figure. Thrashing in bed, feverishly mumbling something between screams, fists tightly clenched as if he were fighting an imaginary opponent. Losing miserably too, by the looks of it.

Another broken wail pierced Caroline's heart like a dagger. The pain he emanated was so overpowering, that Caroline could swear it was seeping into her chest as well, constricting it. Seeing the once perfectly poised man reduced to a whimpering mess, shook her more than she'd ever imagined.

 _You have to do something, Caroline!_

Not wasting another precious second in which Klaus would remain a prisoner of his own treacherous mind, Caroline raced to the bed, determined to pull him out of the clutches of his tortured subconscious.

"Klaus," she whispered gently. "Klaus, can you hear me? You have to wake up."

His only response was an ever stronger and more defeated scream. Moreover, the man started to claw at the silk sheets, then proceeding on his own chest, nearly shredding the thin, white t-shirt he was wearing. Like a caged animal struggling senselessly to regain its freedom.

This was no normal nightmare. No, Caroline had witnessed this before in the hospital. Night terrors- usually brought on by extremely traumatic events. Immediately, her curious mind started to wonder what was causing them in this case, yet remained wary of actually finding out. All that faded though, compared to the dire need to rouse the tormented man. Her medical knowledge served to remind her that people in this situation could present a danger to themselves. Or those around.

But the last part was thoroughly ignored. Only after he was safely out of harm's way would she worry about herself.

"Klaus," she tried raising her voice. "It's Caroline, please wake up."

Still nothing.

When his hands reached his own throat, leaving angry red marks in their wake as if he was trying to tear out his windpipe, the surgeon made a decision to ignore her training and try to rouse him in any way possible.

Too bad her brain could only come up with the most moronic one of them all.

Her own hand clamped down on his shoulder as she towered over him, attempting to shake him into awareness. Safe to say that, like every other plan in her life lately, it backfired.

Horribly.

Instead of coming to his senses, Klaus appeared to perceive her as a danger, fingers clamping tightly on her wrist, nearly breaking it in two.

"Klaus," she tried to pull back, but to no avail, the grip only growing stronger. Using her free hand, the surgeon attempted to unclasp his digits one by one. That turned to be useless as well. Klaus Mikaelson was simply too strong, filled with too much hatred and- was that panic?-to be shaken off.

"NO…" the man kept writhing in bed, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Marcel…H-Henrik… don't!"

Marcel? Henrik?

Caroline had no idea who these people were.

"Klaus, open your eyes, please. It's Caroline and you're in Mystic Falls, in my apartment. Safe, you're safe."

Her assurances did little, if any good, the man not letting up and showing no sign of waking up, lids pressed together so hard wrinkles marred his forehead. Attempting to free herself once more, all Caroline did was worsen the situation.

Her desperate tries to break his vice, must have plunged him even further into the realm roamed by the opponents he was vainly fighting.

In a second, he'd effectively pulled her into bed, straddling her, a hand keeping both of her own captive above her head. Immediately afterwards, a fist was forming around her throat, squeezing, nearly snapping it as if it was a fragile twig. His movements were feral, without a trace of the man she'd grown to know.

For the first time since meeting him, the blonde actually feared for her life. He was so far gone that Caroline had little to no doubt that he would go through with it.

"K-Klaus," she struggled to get out, her voice cracking under the pressure as she gasped for air.

No reaction. Klaus remained motionless, confident that killing her was the best way to proceed. The one thing that'd changed was his eyes.

Gone were the closed ones, making room for enraged blue ones. Hate shone brightly in them- a fire few possessed. The only problem was that he was directing it at Caroline of all people. Although he was seeing straight through her, her features morphed into that of the people who'd hurt him so.

Every gulp of air was rarer as he proceeded to literally squeeze the life out of her.

Everybody had been right after all: Klaus truly would be the death of her. However odd it may be, Caroline couldn't find it in her to hate or even blame him. If he truly wound up killing her, it would be without intent, both falling victims to his past.

"Please, you're…" she fought for even an ounce of life-giving gas," k-killing me."

Black spots were appearing in her peripheral vision making it clear that her attempts to harvest oxygen were unsuccessful. Slowly, her limbs were losing their strength to fight back, numbness taking over and she could feel unconsciousness loom closer.

If she fell asleep now, Caroline was aware that death would most likely be the outcome awaiting her, so her last bit of stubbornness tried to avert it; shiny emerald orbs connected with blank, mercury ones. Trying to help him crawl back to reality, but not even the feelings poured into her final glance were enough.

Nothing seemed enough to help pull Klaus back.

 _I forgive you_ , she tried to convey nonverbally, knowing that Klaus would most likely not remember. Slowly, her lashes landed on her cheeks, lead instead of lids making it impossible to come to again, but the woman could still feel warmth trailing down her skin.

Tears of helplessness, of unspoken affection for the very man responsible for vanquishing her life.

Precisely then, the grip loosened, only to be removed entirely in a matter of seconds. Panting, Caroline struggled to crack open her eyes, a burning sensation lingering in her throat, intensifying with every thirsty gulp of air. Immediately, her hands went to her neck, clutching it protectively and slowly trying to massage the pain away.

It only took seconds for the woman to remember that she was not alone. Klaus- the reason why she found herself in this predicament in the first place- had crawled away to the farthest side of the mattress. Her concern for him returned, increased tenfold after taking him in.

Savouring another mouthful of air, Caroline focused entirely on him.

Klaus appeared a shell of his old self, back pressed against the bed post, hunched in on himself, head tilted down. Clearly, he was avoiding looking at her, instead channeling his attention on his violently shaking hands.

For a brief moment, the woman was at a loss as to how to proceed. The memory of being at his mercy, on the brink of death for the second time in a few weeks, was still freshly embedded in her mind and it left her hesitating.

A few seconds went by, Klaus ignoring the woman who was still catching her breath, not acknowledging her existence or even moving a muscle. A statue, save for the arms which were still wracked with bouts of tremors. Seeing him in this state was enough for Caroline to forsake her physical wellbeing. Again.

"Klaus," she said his name for the umpteenth time that night, wincing at how croak her voice came out and at the pain speaking caused. The answer remained the same: nothing. Not even a twitch of a muscle to show that he was aware of her presence.

 _You have to get him through to him somehow, Caroline. You can't leave him this way._

With that in mind, she inched closer to him, a mixture of fear and worry bubbling. Her nerves were soothed by the reminder that this was the man who'd saved her life, his presence always a symbol of safety.

 _You don't know a lot about his past, even he's warned you before,_ sharply reminder her inner.

Still, she knew, somehow, that Klaus Mikaelson would never willingly harm her.

Shortly, all that separated them were millimeters. "Klaus, will you look at me?" she found her voice again. Still, it was like he was not entirely present or simply refused to address her- the second option more plausible if she were to take into account that she was still breathing.

"Klaus, I can understand if you don't wish to talk to me right now, but please, I need to know if you are alright."

That seemed to do the trick. Immediately, foggy sky blues lifted to incredulously stare at her.

" _You_ want to know if _I_ 'm alright?"

"Yes," she declared as convincingly as her abused vocal chords allowed. "I just…" her slim fingers went to reach on his shoulder, offer some comfort to the distraught man while she fumbled for appropriate words.

Klaus recoiled from her touch and jumped from the bed. "Stay away from me!" It sounded like a command, but Caroline caught the broken undertones. Copying his movements, the surgeon went to stand on shaky legs and had to grab the wooden bed post for support during the brief moments of dizziness.

"Don't come any closer, Caroline!"

It had been meant as a warning, the woman knew, but lacking Klaus's usual bite, it had sounded much more like a plea. The plea of a shattered shadow of a man.

"Okay, I won't if you don't want me to, but you have to talk to me. What's wrong? I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"Help me?" he repeated after her in disbelief. One glance in her determined eyes confirmed her statement. This time she would not back down. Standing her ground, she nodded.

Shaking his head, an incredulous, grim laugh accompanied his words. "You can't help me. Nobody can," with that, he turned on his heels and literally ran out of the room, making a beeline for the apartment's exit.

 _Like hell you run out of here without us talking about why you nearly bloody strangled me._

The blonde immediately followed him, willing herself to go as fast as she could as to not let him slip through her fingertips. She doubted he would be back if she did.

Sheer luck is what made her catch up to him as he fumbled to unlock the door. Her hand rested on his, interrupting his erratic movements.

"You don't get to walk away after nearly choking me to death. I deserve an explanation."

A strong tone of voice was mellowed down by the pain still lingering in her throat, but it seemed enough to sabotage Klaus's plans to bolt. The woman did not miss his flinch at the mention of his actions towards her.

"Please," she added.

"You're right," he agreed after a long consideration time, wrestled free and took a seat on the couch. Following his lead, Caroline plopped down on the leather cushion right next to him, positioning herself between the man and the door, in case he wanted to make a run for it.

A game of silence began after they both sat down, neither really sure as to how to proceed. The woman continued to rub soothing circles on her throbbing neck muscles, a ruthless migraine already beginning to build.

Continuing to stare at Caroline, who was now chewing on her bottom lip, a thin line of blood contrasting with her pale pink one, Klaus was drawn to her unconscious hand movements. She was trying to relieve the pain he'd caused.

He had been so lost that he was sure Saleem was the body he was slowly draining of life. Meeting Stefan had dredged up all of those memories that he struggled to keep at bay. Only by pure miracle had Caroline's voice reached him, awakened him before he could add another blood-coated name to his long list.

"I'm sorry," he ventured first, compelled to apologize –a feat he hadn't done in months.

"It's fine, "Caroline rushed to assure. "I'm a doctor, I knew the risks of trying to wake you up," a coughing fit interrupted her.

"You should've left me alone, Caroline. When these things happen I'm…not in control of myself."

It took a great toll on him to admit that, his voice tight, eyes filled with self-loathing.

"I know, Klaus, I know, but you were nearly ripping out your larynx. I couldn't stand by and allow you to hurt yourself."

"So you would rather I hurt you?"

"I… didn't exactly think it through," the woman sheepishly admitted, astounded at how stupid it sounded. "All that crossed my mind was to make sure you were alright."

 _Please don't ask me why, Klaus. I don't know myself._

"Well, don't ever do it again," he hesitated briefly before choosing to continue. "If there is ever a choice between me and you, always choose yourself, Caroline. I'm not worthy of more."

Seeing all of that hatred directed at oneself left Caroline breathless. What had hurt this man so much that he believed himself worthless?

"No," her mouth protested before her brain even processed the rebellious words. "No, you don't get to order me around without telling me why. I promised myself I would respect your past and I will, but you cannot say something like that without offering a good reason. If you can't give it to me, you can be sure that the next time I'll still try to help you."

"You don't understand…"

"Then make me, Klaus!" she screamed as loud as her voice allowed, standing up. "For once, stop speaking in riddles and explain. Explain why you despise yourself, why Stefan hates you so much, why Lucien tried to _kill_ me to get back at you."

The man remained still as a sculpture, making it crystal clear that he had no intention of telling her all of that. Wrapping a protective arm around her torso, Caroline could feel her heart unexpectedly break at the realization that he didn't trust her enough to say something, anything to her. To him, she was probably just the idiotic girl who got caught up in his tangled life.

"At least tell me why you tried to strangle me," her raspy voice was merely a whisper. "I deserve to know that much."

"It wasn't you whom I was choking," he finally said after an extended staring contest while the woman was holding at bay tears or frustration.

"I know as much," she bit back for stating the obvious. "Regardless of what you say, I know that you wouldn't hurt me. Consciously, that is."

"Yet that's all I've done since coming into your life," he reflected aloud. In that split second, with everything she'd suffered because of him, he decided to come clean. At least with what he could. Some skeletons had to remain buried for her safety.

"Please sit down," he motioned to the seat across from him, aware that she would probably need to put as much space as possible between them. "What I have to tell you is a pretty long story. One I've never told before."

This was it, it dawned on Caroline. Truth would finally come to light and he was trusting her enough to tell it to her. The mystery, the paradox that was Klaus Mikaelson would finally be solved. Heeding his words, the blonde surprised him again by sitting next to him, leaving barely inches between them. When it was clear she had no intention of moving away, he drew a long breath, steadying himself.

" Tonight, I was back in Syria, reliving my final tour, the final mission before being sent back home."

Syria? Tour? Had he been in the army?

Her questions must have been obvious on her face because he nodded. "Yes, it was my second tour in Syria, fighting against ISIS. My best friend, the only friend I had left, Marcel, was there with me."

After that shaky beginning, word upon word left his lips, describing apocalyptic scenes, the horrors of war that one like her only glimpsed at in movies. Every sentence cleaved at her heart, burning a hole of anguish through it. When he first mentioned Saleem, pity seeped into her body. Another innocent soul wracked by senseless fighting.

As he went on, Caroline understood that she, like Marcel and those in his unit would have fallen victim to the monster hidden behind the guise of a young boy. At the word 'landmines' her blood ran cold. Klaus was painting such a vivid picture, helping her imagine herself in that scorching desert, running for her life like they had.

By the time he got to Marcel's final moments, tears were freely rolling down her cheeks, leaving shiny tracks in their wake. What he was recounting was more than a human being should ever have to live through.

" _I respect him, I guess,"_ Melanie's words finally made sense.

"Marcel gave his life so that I could live," he finished the story. "Ever since, night terrors have been my most trusted companion. That's why I drink Caroline, to keep these demons and everything else I've lived there at bay. I haven't had them in a few weeks, but seeing Stefan again –the former friend who held me responsible for Marcel's death- dredged this up."

So it was her fault. All of this, him hurting again this much was because of her. She'd been the one to push until he agreed to come with her. Perhaps he hadn't been trying to kill the wrong person, after all.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," was all that she could mumble weakly between debilitating sobs.

Knitting his eyebrows in confusion, Klaus finally lifted his gaze from the floor to look at the woman before him. She was violently crying, her entire body shaking and looking ready to collapse under the weight of her agony.

For him. Unlike others- himself included- there was no blame hidden behind her forest-green eyes. Instead, all he found was woe for all he'd lived. This extraordinary woman was shedding tears for him.

 _She doesn't know everything, Niklaus_ , a familiar voice reminded him.

"Don't cry for me, Caroline, I'm not worth it, I'm truly not. People have lost their lives because of me." _You almost became one of them._

Out of the blue, in a typical Caroline fashion, knocking all air from his lungs, she lunged forward in his arms, hugging him, whispering relentlessly that she was sorry while continuing to weep. Hesitantly, his arms wrapped around her tiny frame, holding her. His own sight had grown blurry by tears he still refused to spill.

Once she'd somewhat calmed down she pulled back. "I'm so sorry. If I had known what wounds I would be reopening for you, I never would have asked you to come back with me."

Little droplets continued to silently roll down her ivory skin. Horror accompanied the understanding that she was blaming herself for this. It couldn't be further from the truth.

"You have nothing to apologize for. I returned to Mystic Falls with you because I chose to, because I felt like you might be in danger if you stayed any longer in New Orleans. This –everything in my past- I brought upon myself with my own hands."

"No, you're not to blame for Marcel's death. Do you understand me? I'm sure that if he were here, he would agree with me entirely."

"Perhaps, but he was always too selfless for his own good, like you, Caroline. That's why you have to stay away from me. I destroy people like you two. I never learn, do I?" a dark laugh followed. "I should have known better and kept my distance from you," he stood up. "I'll get my things and leave immediately."

What? He was leaving? After everything did he really believe she wanted him to go?

Grabbing his hand as tightly as she could, Caroline exclaimed: "Wait! I don't want you to leave."

"Caroline, I nearly killed you tonight. How can you possibly want me near you?"

"I…" she found herself at a loss. He was making a fair point. "I can't explain it, but it would hurt me more if you were to leave like this. You're my…friend. Stay until after the wedding and, if by then you still desire to depart, I won't hold, nor will I come bothering you again."

Klaus found himself at a crossroads. Going away was the easiest decision. The safest for them both. That way, the people after him would not acquire a new target and he would not have to face Stefan and all they'd both done every waking second. He could go back to avoiding his past and drowning his days in liquor. Waiting for a chance to extract a vengeance that would never come.

On the other hand, there was Caroline. This stubborn, infuriating woman who had started to claw her way to his heart, tearing down layer upon layer of protective shields he'd put up. Utterly crumbling his walls. The mere fact that he'd even said this much of his past stood evidence to the effect she had on him. Slowly, she was making him a better person.

He could linger in Mystic Falls, face his demons and maybe, just maybe have a chance at building this 'friendship' she spoke of.

Once his mind was made up, he found himself resenting his selfish nature for he did not elect what was best for Caroline. No, he had to listen to that stupid voice that screamed that whatever was being put together by them was worth the risk.

"I'll stay," he voiced his greedy pick. The smile with which it was met served to both melt another part of his frozen heart and to tear another chunk of it apart at the possibility that this might end up hurting her.

"Thank you," she beamed and hugged him for the second time.

Just like before, Klaus was clumsy, cautious in showing too much emotion, but still he had to bask in her warmth. The softness of her hair and her aroma: vanilla combined with a fruity essence- was enough to make him inhale deeply, desperate to remember the feel of her body, so trusting and molding perfectly into his own. He longed to memorize it, etch it into his brain forever because once the two weeks were over, the illusion would fade and he would be forced to return to his wretched excuse of a life.

So she can enjoy her own.

Disappointment was inevitable when she finally let go.

"I'm going to make myself a cup of tea. Would you like some or are you going back to sleep?"

Truthfully, the tea was to help let up the pain that still enclosed her throat like barbed wire, not that she would ever admit it.

Reluctantly, Klaus agreed to accompany the woman to the kitchen, aware that returning to the realm of dreams was impossible tonight. Motioning for him to take a seat, Caroline put the kettle and waited for the water to reach the perfect temperature before pouring it in their cups.

Meanwhile, his gaze remained focused on the angry red marks still on her porcelain skin. Bruises had already started to appear. Because of him. He'd been the one to cause her harm, he noted with disgust.

"Now," she chirpily pulled him back from his reverie. "I've got black, green, lemon, jasmine, forest fruits, pomegranate…I have pretty much every possible kind of tea on the market. What would you like?"

"Whatever you're having is fine."

Caroline narrowed her eyes at the dismissive answer, but proceeded to put together two jasmine teas in the hope that it might calm them both down, however distant that possibility seemed. She decided to put some milk, sugar and honey between them, in case he wanted any and took a small sip of the scalding concoction.

"I'm better at making tea than cocktails, I promise," she tried to lighten the mood upon seeing him lost inside his head once again.

"I have no doubt of that," and he did taste it, but remained otherwise captive inside his own shell.

To be fair, this recess of sorts, gave her more time to process all he'd said to her. Klaus Mikaelson had been through so much; it was a wonder he was still standing. Most would have been reduced to a bawling mess had they been put in his position. Hell, she'd probably not even be able to get out of bed in the morning, were she to live through half of what he'd unfairly endured.

However, there were still some things that did not add up to her. Some missing pieces of the puzzle, but she doubted this would be a good moment to push for even more answers.

 _He's given you so much already. Have patience, Caroline._

A tired sigh drew her attention. "Whatever's on your mind, you can ask me, Caroline." Her eyebrows shot to space in bewilderment that he'd grown to know her this well in such a short period. Still, instead of trying to try to contradict his appraisal of her, she complied.

"Who's Henrik?"

Whatever he'd been expecting, this was most certainly not it.

"Where did you hear that name?" he fired back in a tight voice, feelings under wraps because this was an even tenderer subject than Marcel. Henrik was his biggest regret.

Caroline sensed that she'd hit a soft spot immediately and cursed her big, insufferable mouth for running amok again.

"You were screaming his name in your sleep, along with Marcel's, but you don't have to talk about him now. Forget I even mentioned it."

Klaus wanted to do just that: keep quiet, like he always had when it came to Henrik, but there were so many secrets between him and Caroline still that he did not wish Henrik's existence to become one too. An unreasonable compulsion pushed him to divulge more and more of himself to Caroline.

"He was my younger brother."

 _Was?_ Oh _God, I've opened another can of worms, haven't I_?

"Is he…" she stopped unsure whether or not to proceed.

"Dead?" he finished for her. "Yes, he died almost two years ago, but I'd rather not go into any more details."

"Of course, I'm sorry I even asked."

Feeling dumb for bringing up an even more painful subject for Klaus, however unwillingly it had been, Caroline sipped her tea wordlessly. By the time she was ready to go back to her room, most likely to toss and turn for the remainder of the night, haunted by images of Syria and mangled, disfigured bodies, an idea popped into her head.

"How would you feel if we were to go to Malibu earlier? Get out of Mystic Falls, escape all of the tedious people in here and just unwind for a bit before the grand wedding?"

The man in front of her read between the lines. This was Caroline's attempt to get him away from Stefan- the live remainder of his past. For some beguiling reason, she felt the need to make up to him, like she was accountable for how broken he truly was.

"You don't have to do this, Caroline. I'm fine, really. I'm sure you want to spend some time with your friends and mother."

"I'm doing this for me too. I need some time away from the happy couple. I know it sounds silly, but it still hurts seeing them together, doing everything I used to do with Stefan. Whenever I see that woman, all I can think of is her naked body in my bed. Besides, I have all the time in the world to spend with my mom and friends after all this ordeal is over."

That was how Klaus found himself acquiescing to her proposal before they each returned to their rooms, under the pretense of sleep, when they both knew that was not going to grace either of them.

Tomorrow, they would go to Malibu, on what resembled a holiday.

 _You must be insane_ , were the words on both of their minds. They were venturing into the unknown, Klaus slowly cracking himself up, allowing brief moments of vulnerability and not remaining a prisoner of _his_ threatening ghost anymore and Caroline for still trusting the man who almost killed her.

Moreover they both felt something they could not explain or ever utter aloud, an undeniable pull between them that defied all logic, but that neither could disobey.

What neither one knew was that this choice of theirs set in motion a mechanism that could either lead to their happiness- be it together or apart- or to both of their destructions.

The demons from Klaus's past grew nearer and nearer and now, their tentacles were reaching out towards Caroline as well.

A reckoning was coming.

And not all would be making it out alive.

* * *

 **A/N: First off, I apologize for delaying this chapter so much and I promise I will try to get the next one out sooner, because I have a _lot_ planned for this story and no plans of abandoning it. All I ask is that you, please, please try to bear with me.**

 **Secondly, I would like to thank every single one of you who took the time to leave any kind of feedback, be it a follow, favourite or review. It means the world to me that you are still sticking by this story and you guys are the reason why I try to deliver something worthy of your time and response every single time. So, if you have a moment, please let me know what you thought of this chapter, as well. Because hearing your thoughts on the story makes a _huge_ difference.**

 **One last thing: Merry Christmas everyone!**


	11. Chapter 11

Arid deserts. Landmines going off. Blazing flames engulfing her and severed limbs adorning the golden sand, coloring it a sordid crimson.

That was all Caroline could see upon closing her eyes and it prevented her from falling asleep again. So she tossed and turned relentlessly, her mind continuing to venture in Klaus Mikaelson's direction. A man who had been put through the ringer, who was still haunted by demons Caroline couldn't even begin to consider, for they were like a dagger cleaving through her heart.

In order to keep busy, she finally stood up to prepare her luggage for their flight to Malibu. Moreover, she booked plane tickets for the both of them, before Klaus could even begin to protest. They were flying first class and it was her treat, however much it bothered the proud man.

With hours left to spare before the plane took off and, since there had been no sign of her 'boyfriend', a treacherous thought made its way: what if he'd left after all? Unfortunately, once the seed of doubt had begun to fester, there was no stopping it.

Precisely for that reason Caroline found herself outside her guest room, hand hovering in the air, reluctant to disturb Klaus for fear she might interrupt a brief, rare moment of peaceful slumber. However, the uncertainty was too much. If he'd indeed opted to break his promise and go, she'd rather know as soon as possible.

What was most surprising was that she did not care about the embarrassment his abandonment might cause among her acquaintances. All she worried about was him. His fragile equilibrium that she'd shred to pieces upon making him return to Mystic Falls.

So she knocked, first gently and, when no response came, a little bit louder, her heart pounding.

 _He's gone._

Inhaling as much air as her lungs could handle, the woman finally opened the door. To her bewilderment, the man was in the room after all. He had pulled a chair by the window and was gazing outside, eyes glazed over, clearly not aware of his surroundings. Wrinkles had formed around his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, his jaw tightly wound.

All in all, he appeared much older than she knew him to be. Older and exhausted, if one was to consider the purple bags under his eyes.

Slowly, the blonde began to approach him when memories of last night surfaced. Taking him by surprise was a mistake she wouldn't repeat if possible. Unconsciously, her hands went to her neck, absent-mindedly trailing down the angry bruises there. They didn't hurt as badly anymore, but the memory of running out of air, staring death in the face again, so soon, had come back and left her unwantedly weary of approaching Klaus when he was in such a state.

"Klaus?" she gathered her wits and made her presence known.

Immediately, his head snapped in her direction, clearly baffled by her being there.

Taking a few steps forward, the woman stopped right in front of him. "I wanted to let you know that I've booked us flights that leave for Malibu in a couple of hours." Seeing as he remained quiet, she rushed to add. "That is, if you still wish to come with me, of course."

If he'd decided that he wanted to leave, Caroline wouldn't protest. If he felt it best for him to get away from all this, she'd stand by and allow it to happen. Regardless of how much it beguilingly hurt her.

"Isn't that a question that I should be posing, Caroline?"

Her dismay must have shown on her face, prompting him to pointedly stare at the marks adorning her throat.

"Do you really wish to go on a vacation with the man who almost killed you last night?"

Hadn't they had this conversation before? Why in the world was he starting it again? Cursing her forgetfulness to cover up the black and blue blemishes, the woman took a second to wisely choose her words.

"Of course, otherwise, I wouldn't have offered. By now, you should know that not even the big, bad Klaus Mikaelson can force me to do anything I don't want to. "

"Perhaps not," he remained serious in spite of her light tone of voice. "But you can't deny that you, for some incomprehensible reason feel guilty and wish to make some nonexistent mistake up to me."

That was a spot on interpretation of her actions. All that lacked was a small detail: her confusing feelings for him. A wish to help heal some of those bleeding wounds that scarred his heart undeservedly, was guiding her.

"Klaus," she paused mid-sentence, deciding to be entirely honest. "You're right. I do feel somewhat guilty for dredging all of your past back up and for making you face Stefan again. If I had known even half of what I do today, I never would have asked you to come with me." Caroline could see that he was preparing to interrupt so she quickly resumed. "And although I might be a little weary in approaching you, should you have a nightmare, you need to know that I don't blame you for what happened. It wasn't your fault; you had no control over your actions and I could never hold them against you."

The sincerity with which she spoke was overwhelming. How could such a kind soul wish to remain in his dark presence? The answer laid in the question itself: she was too good to send him packing even though he deserved it.

"How can you still say this to me? Want me in your presence? Caroline, the people around me die, each and every single one of them."

The brokenness of his voice tore another piece of her heart. His suffering hurt way more than her bruises ever could. Hers would heal, but his would follow him around all of his life unless he found a way to put it behind him. Find something worth living for again. She wasn't naïve enough to even entertain the possibility that she could be that something, but she sure as hell could try to help him reach it.

"It's simple, Klaus. I want you with me because I don't think you're the monster you believe yourself to be, the cruel person that others make you out to be." Before he could get a change to cut in, she went on, "I've witnessed firsthand that there is good in you, that you feel things such as hurt and pain, perhaps even more acutely than any of us. I ask you to come with me so that I can help you find that part of yourself again, prove to you that you are more than worthy to have…" she paused briefly, "Good friends, who know the real you."

For a split second, grey eyes were transfixed on the woman whose features screamed that her words were truthful. Her small speech had had a completely unexpected effect on him. It had almost entirely convinced him that staying, even for a short amount of time, was the right thing. And it truly wasn't. It couldn't be.

"The real me would make you run for the hills, Caroline."

"Let me be the judge of that."

The conviction behind her words was enough to wreck his crumbling resistance so he found himself nodding. The beaming smile he received in return was more than enough to soothe his screaming conscience.

After telling him to be ready in two hours, Caroline left him to pack his belongings. Alone again, and with a much cooler head, Klaus went over his actions. Since last night, he'd pondered whether to go with the woman to Malibu or simply up and leave. The first option had almost no positive arguments save for one: Caroline and that weighed way more than all of the others combined.

However he hesitated, his mind had already been made up and there was no going back. Anyway, he wasn't sure he wanted to even if it was possible.

* * *

Five exhausting hours later, they had finally reached the luxurious hotel that would be hosting the wedding. Right by the beach, surrounded by palm trees and an enormous garden peppered with children carelessly playing there, happiness obvious on their sun-kissed faces. A marble fountain greeted the guests right before the entrance, a Greek statue giving it an air of ancient elegance. A bellboy appeared out of nowhere and with utmost politeness offered to take their bags for them.

"Thank you," she mumbled, not entirely comfortable with this level of attention. It wasn't like she spent all of her time in places this posh and elegant. Being a surgeon was too time-consuming for such distractions and she was too dedicated to her profession –saving lives- to put it second to something as fickle as traveling. Even if her heart secretly longed for it.

The interior of the hotel was even more breathtaking. Never before had Caroline seen such beauty –a mixture of opulence, but also great taste, nothing tacky, everything perfectly matched. From the polished mahogany reception desk, to the caramel glistening floors and to the roof, made entirely out of glass, allowing the sun rays to gently flood in.

"Welcome to the Sheraton Hotel. How may I help you?" A polite receptionist asked.

"Hello! My name is Caroline Forbes, there's a reservation under my name. I'm one of the guests at the wedding you're hosting 7 days from now. I had an emergency and had to come here earlier than specified on the phone. Is there any chance that you might have a free room?"

Crossing her fingers, Caroline waited with bated breath as the young brunette typed on her computer. With all things Klaus, calling here to check for availability had entirely slipped her mind. Anxiety grew with each passing second as she was becoming more and more convinced that they would have to search for another hotel.

Hazel eyes finally looked up from the screen, flashing a smile. "You're in luck, Ms. Forbes, we have just one more room available at the moment and it happens to be exactly like the one you had booked."

The tide had turned and Caroline had finally run into some good fortune.

"Thank you so much," she went to hand her credit card, but Klaus interrupted, instead pulling out his own.

"No, "she found herself protesting. "This is my treat. I really want to do this."

And she did. It was her way of beginning to make up her mistake to him. She had to feel like she was doing something right, helping him enjoy a week in which his demons would at least grant him some semblance of peace. There was nothing more she wanted than to help him. Even her plan to get back at Stefan had been completely vanquished from her mind.

At last, he withdrew his hand and accepted that she would be paying for their stay.

"Thank you, Klaus."

The receptionist was eyeing them with a wide smile on her face as she grabbed Caroline's card and in return handed them a keycard.

"Room 408. Brian," she pointed to the bellboy waiting at the elevator," Will take you there."

Not wasting another second, Klaus began to head in that direction, not deigning the polite receptionist worthy of anything more than a curt shake of the head. Not that Caroline could really blame him. Clearly he hadn't slept a wink and the memories from last night had to be still fresh, wrestling to come back to the surface.

"Thank you very much," the blonde flashed an apologetic smile at the flushed young woman. "Sorry for my boyfriend, he's just a little tired from the flight here."

"Oh, it's totally fine, I'm used to business men acting way worse than that. Besides, he seems nice and it's clear by the way he looks at you that he loves you."

 _Love_?

No, this woman had it all wrong. Klaus Mikaelson barely tolerated her as a friend, let alone harbor those sort of feelings for her. He was just a good actor, like she'd noted before. Nothing more and nothing less.

But who was he acting for in this situation? Because that's what he was doing, right?

Her mouth immediately went to argue against the woman's false assumption, but stopped. People she knew and had deceived that Klaus was her boyfriend would be arriving in a few days. It was best to take advantage of the situation.

"I'm a very lucky woman," Caroline declared in the end, almost choking on her own lie. She was anything but in the romantic department.

"Indeed you are. I hope you enjoy your stay with us."

Flashing the beaming receptionist a final smile, Caroline went to catch up to Klaus. Both him and Brian were waiting for her, the lift's doors held open by their luggage. So heavy was it that she kind of felt sorry for the bellboy whose job was to carry it. Three of the four suitcases- the biggest ones- were hers. In her defense, she had to come prepared. The wedding loomed over her head and she had to dress to impress. The put-together Caroline was back and neither Stefan nor Valerie would be granted the power to vanquish her again.

Following Brian's lead, they reached their room and entered. Klaus took care of generously tipping the bellboy while Caroline soaked in her surroundings. Just like in the lobby, the floors were perfectly polished, an old, Persian rug reigning in the centre. The walls were a pristine beige that clashed with the raven wardrobe, whereas the bathroom was just as exquisite, made entirely out of white marble, with a crystal mirror and a bathtub large enough to fit five people.

Her next stop was the balcony. Two rocking chairs waited there, near an antique coffee table, but what was really breathtaking was the view. The entire ocean laid beneath her feet, the calming sound of waves crashing against the shore traveling all the way to her.

A swift shuffle of feet warned that she was no longer alone and a quick glance out the corner of her eyes confirmed it. Klaus had joined her and was mere inches from her.

"It's extraordinary," the blonde declared. "You can't deny the woman's great taste."

Try as she might, an ounce of hurt seeped into her voice. This place was so much better than what she'd prepared for her own wedding. Turning to entirely face the man, she found him struggling to find something appropriate to say. Perhaps he'd come to the conclusion that she was waiting for some comfort of sorts, but truth be told, she'd just about had it with the sympathetic looks.

"And that's perfectly fine. At least, we can enjoy this. I'm sure neither of us would have otherwise. Now," she stepped back inside and her eyes landed on the huge king-sized bed that appeared taken out of a magazine.

That was one problem she'd not anticipated. After having followed her inside, their current predicament seemed to dawn on him as well.

"You take the bed, I'll sleep on the floor," he immediately claimed convincingly.

Normally, she would have protested, but the events from last night were still too fresh. Caroline did not have enough courage to surrender herself to the realm of dreams, become that vulnerable while so close to Klaus. What if the night terrors returned and she couldn't reach him. It would be the end of her.

Still, it did not feel entirely right for him to suffer the cold, hard floor while she basked in the comfort of silk sheets, geese pillows and warm comforters.

"I…" she wrecked her brain for a better, fairer solution. "We could take turns on the bed," she tentatively offered, expecting his refusal.

And it came, in the form of a definite "Absolutely not." It had the air of an order and for the second time Caroline could catch a glimpse of Klaus Mikaelson, the soldier, the one who barked commands at his subordinates.

"Suit yourself," she went for the same authoritative tone, but failed. "But don't complain about your aching back after a week on the floor."

"I've slept in way worse situations, trust me," he seemed oddly amused by her behaviour.

That was probably true, now that she considered his past. However, while sharing a room with her, Klaus would sleep in the most comfortable way she could ensure. That in mind, Caroline began to scavenge the closet for any spare sheets or blankets, but came up empty.

Mumbling to herself and cursing posh hotels that lacked indispensible comforts, the surgeon was just about to go and ask for some when it dawned on her that she could not. In order for this charade to be kept up, they would need to be credible to everyone.

And that did not entail sleeping in different beds.

So she had to come up with a different solution. Marching to the bed, she grabbed one of the sheets and the blanket and extended them to him.

"For a makeshift bed," she offered apologetically that this was all she could offer and then extended one of the two pillows.

"It will do perfectly."

 _Like hell it will,_ but there was nothing more she could do to her utter frustration.

"I was thinking of going to explore the hotel and its grounds," Caroline paused briefly. "Would you like to come with me?"

A moment of hesitation followed her question. Once again, she found herself hoping that he would accept her offer. Choose the friendship extended to him instead of barely treading water in the sea of demons tormenting him.

Friendship was all she was hoping for.

The four-letter word the receptionist had uttered seemed way beyond the realm of possibilities to even consider.

"I," he looked to the floor, crushing her hopes. "I'm pretty tired and I'd rather rest for a while."

Of course he wouldn't agree. What had she been thinking? This was the man who'd nearly killed her, that was how haunted he was and she expected him to simply go for a stroll with her. Yet she had to find a way to reach him.

"Of course, you should take advantage and enjoy the bed before I commandeer it."

With that, she exited the room and allowed the disappointment she'd tried to hide behind a fake smile and a joke to wash over her.

How was she supposed to break through his walls if she couldn't get him to willingly spend some time with her?

Even her surroundings, the ones that had appeared to scream pure happiness and innocence had now been reduced to background noise, her thoughts drowning them out. Allowing her feet to guide her, she passed the buzzing restaurant and pool and headed down a path frequented by less people.

It seemed to lead to the back of the hotel, to a wooden building, like a shed. Nobody appeared to be there to restrict access to guests so she continued. As she got closer, animal noises reached her and upon setting one foot inside, she realized what it actually was.

A horse stable.

Unbelievable. One of the dreams she'd never gotten to accomplish had been learning to ride a horse or even see one closely and here she was. Suddenly, one of the horses neighed, drawing her attention to it.

An entirely black stallion was staring at her, its eyes eerily intelligent as if beckoning her to come closer, reading her uncertainty. Acquiescing to its demand, she stopped right in front of its fence.

"Hey," her hand wavered in the air before resting on the animal's mane. Another neigh, this time shorter was the response she got so she started to pet him, confidence growing with each move. "Good boy," she praised the clever horse that seemed to lean into her touch.

"Beautiful animals, aren't they?"

Startled, Caroline immediately turned to see who had spoken. Although, that was kind of pointless since she'd recognize that heavily accented voice anywhere.

Klaus.

"I thought you said you were tired," she couldn't help throwing back.

"I was, but I happened to see this place from the balcony. I had to see if it was truly a horse stable."

"I couldn't believe it either," she turned back to the animal and resumed petting it. "They truly are incredible creatures."

Klaus moved to stand right beside her, gaze transfixed on the animal. "I used to have one that looked just like him. An exquisite, pureblood stallion named Diablo. Whenever life got too much with my family, I would forget myself and all my woes while riding it. The best way to escape the wretched life I'd been handed."

Suddenly, Caroline wasn't focusing on the horse next to her, but on the man slowly opening up to her. Could it be that this was a chip in his armor? Klaus was oblivious to the pair of emerald eyes staring at him. His orbs were clouded, obviously lost inside memory lane.

"Riding is one of the few things I miss from my old life."

"Maybe," her voice was barely above a whisper, as if afraid to destroy the moment. "You could ride again. I could ask if that's allowed."

He hesitated for a few seconds, an internal battle waging inside him. Of course he longed to saddle up a horse again and feel the freedom he tremendously enjoyed while urging the animal to go faster and faster. What he feared was opening the gates to his heart too much, to the point where closing them would be nearly impossible. Still, he couldn't help himself.

A part of him continued to feel in spite of how much he'd tried not to.

In the time he spent debating himself, Caroline caught a glimpse of a hotel employee carrying a sack full of what she assumed to be horse feed. Without expecting an answer, she ran to catch up to the man and enquire whether he could ride a horse.

"Excuse me, sir," he stopped, turning to look at her. "Can the horses be ridden by hotel guests?"

"Of course, Miss. Do you need any help saddling up a horse or maybe need someone to teach you?"

Klaus certainly knew all of those things and wouldn't appreciate anyone interfering.

"No, thank you, my boyfriend is a pretty good rider," the lie about him being her boyfriend certainly got easier and easier.

After wishing her a good afternoon, the man went on with his work and she returned only to find Klaus in the same place.

"So," she made her presence known." Feel free to saddle up a horse if you wish to, I've spoken to one of the employees and we're good."

Before she could get another word in, he opened the fence and, grabbing the reins, guided the black horse she'd petted out. Without further warning, he placed the ropes in her hand and went to the back of the room.

 _What was he doing?_

With a tug of the reins and a strong neigh, the horse started to grow restless in her hands. Aware that she should not let go, she grabbed even harder on the reins and also resumed running her hand up and down his thick, shiny mane. Immediately, the creature responded and calmed down, enjoying her ministrations.

"You're good with horses," Klaus interrupted, a brown leather saddle in his hands. "Have you ridden one before?"

"No. One of my dreams as a young girl was to learn how to ride. My father promised he'd teach me, but life got in the way. He left home, moved to another town and I guess he just forgot."

Bill had forgotten many of the promises he'd made, but lately he'd tried so hard to make it up and Caroline had forgiven him almost entirely. All that remained was the regret that she'd never gotten to experience things like being taught to ride a bike or a horse or how to drive a car. The things fathers did with their daughters.

"Would you like to learn now?" he asked while finishing mounting the saddle.

Was he serious? Would he really teach her? What if she was terrible at it? With her lack of coordination between her legs and arms, she could be a disaster waiting to happen.

"I promise I won't allow you to get hurt. We'll practice there," sensing her hesitation, he pointed to the area specially designed for the horse riding lessons.

He was so convincing and she was certain that with him as her trainer, nothing bad could happen. So she agreed. The corners of his lips tugged up at her response and Caroline witnessed one of his rare smiles while he guided the horse to the practice ring, closed the fence behind them and expectantly looked up at her.

It dawned on her that he expected her to climb on the saddle, but for a brief second fear took over. All she could see were images of fractured bones and vertebrae, should she fall.

 _Don't be silly! Klaus promised you'll be fine,_ her inner voice helped her snap out of it and gather her bravery.

Closing the distance between her and the horse, Caroline waited for Klaus's instructions. "Place you left foot here," he pointed to the stirrup while holding the reins, ensuring that the horse would not move. The woman obeyed, thanking God for her smart choice of comfortable clothes and a pair of flat boots.

"Now, grab the saddle here," he pointed to the front part of it. "And scoot over so that you are in an almost vertical line with the horse, aligning you other foot to the other stirrup." After she was done, he continued," Okay, I want you to try and hoist yourself up, I'll help you."

With that he moved a few inches so that he was right beside her, but also holding the reins short so that the horse wouldn't try to move away."

Having him as her safety net was all the insurance she needed since she was aware that never would he intentionally allow anything bad to happen to her. That in mind, Caroline gathered all of her strength and tried to climb up. The moment her foot left the ground, a firm hand helped push her up, ensuring that she mounted without problem.

"You're really good at this," she couldn't help exclaiming. "Have you done this before? Teach someone to ride, I mean?"

A sad look crossed his face, but it wasn't like those before. This time a nostalgic smile accompanied it.

"I have. My younger brother," the pure love laced in his voice left Caroline almost certain to know who he was talking about.

"Henrik, right?"

A shake of the head confirmed it. "We were inseparable, always protecting each other; he was like my shadow growing up, following me around, begging me to teach him things like swimming or riding a horse. Henrik was the only family member who stayed by me when my so-called father disowned me. The only one who had the guts to defy him for me."

There it was. The crack inside his walls. Finally, he was letting her in, somewhat.

"He sounds like an extraordinary person."

"He was," tears shined in his metallic orbs, but the happiness those memories brought was apparent on his expression. For the first time in months he'd been able to speak about Henrik. Not only speak, but also remember the good times they'd shared and not the image that had remained stuck on his retina- his mangled and broken body.

Caroline really was doing him good, bringing out a part of him that he'd thought had died along with those closest to him, but she appeared to be resurrecting it. She was shining some light into his all-encompassing darkness and he wanted nothing more than for these two weeks to never end. He longed to bask in her warmth longer, but for her safety he couldn't. So he would simply have to make do with what he had- this limited time was better than nothing at all.

"Are you ready to learn to walk the horse?"

"I am," she confidently replied.

"I'll hold the reins for now. I want you to gently squeeze the horse with both of your feet"

No sooner had he spoken than Caroline did exactly as told, giving him barely enough time to regroup and not drop the ropes. She certainly was an admirable, courageous woman who did not let fear get in her way.

A few laps afterwards, he'd given her the reins and taught her to go at a faster pace. Her posture was relaxed, like she had no care in the world. In a few words, she was a fast learner and what had been a scrutinizing look –fishing for mistakes or any signs of trouble so he could intervene- had now turned into an admiring one.

Caroline was unlike anybody he'd seen before. Kind-hearted, full of light, beautiful, but also tough, not afraid of a challenge, not afraid of him. Of how dark his soul truly was.

"Go, grab a horse of your own and let's ride together!"

Uncertainty only lasted enough for the sun to completely come out from under the clouds' siege, its light reflecting on her blonde hair. Like a halo. He couldn't deny her anything and she'd gotten a good grip on riding a horse. Yet she was only a beginner and neither of them could forget that.

"Promise me you won't try to gallop without me. Just go slowly while I saddle a horse for myself."

"I promise, stop worrying about me. I'm actually pretty good at this."

And she was. Better than Henrik or most of the beginner riders he'd seen, but that did not mean that she was prepared to compete in a race. Though he had no doubt that she would try, were she given the chance.

"Just be careful, please."

He all but ran to the stable to get himself a horse so they could both enjoy riding. Picking the first horse he came upon, Klaus got it ready in record time and sped out.

 _What if she'd fallen and hurt herself?_

A breath he hadn't even realized he was holding was released when he saw that she was safe and sound, her back turned to him, gently pushing the horse on and speaking to it.

Her tender heart made her a natural, the animal sensing her good intentions and listening to her. Inexplicably, his heart swelled at the sight of Caroline, looking so happy and knowing that he'd contributed to that.

"I have an idea," the woman sharply turned to look at him. "I'll race you to that small, secluded beach and whoever loses gets to buy the other dinner."

Before he could protest, tell her that she was not ready Caroline had already taken off, passing by him with great speed and urging the horse to go even faster.

Mounting with lightning velocity, he took after her, shouting, begging to stop. However hard he pushed, she was still a good two hundred meters ahead of him, her head start too great to surmount.

 _Please don't let an accident befall her. Keep her safe,_ he prayed just in case someone was listening. Not that any of his prayers had been answered before.

Thankfully, they were nearing the finish line, the beach in sight. The relief was short-lived though because out of the blue, fireworks graced the sky. The loud sound startled his horse, which started to struggle against him, attempting to run from the danger he perceived and Klaus just about managed to stay in the saddle and calm the terrified animal.

Caroline, on the other hand, had no such luck. Her lack of experience ensured that she had no chance against the raging animal even though she tried pulling on the reins as hard as she could to steady it. The forces fighting against her were too strong and she succumbed to them, the ropes slipping from her hands.

Without anything else to hold on to, all sense of balance disappeared and, following another jerk, she found herself in a free fall. Bracing herself for the impact, the air was still knocked out of her lungs when her body touched the ground, pain erupting from her ribs and ankle which had landed at a weird angle.

The horse's hooves continued to patter and she saw her life flashing before her eyes when one landed millimeters from her head. It would have entirely crushed the bones in her skull. Miraculously maintaining her composure, she ignored the pain and rolled away from the animal.

"Caroline!" Klaus fervently jumped off his horse the moment it had calmed down enough.

Focusing on the scared animal for now, the man grabbed hold of the ropes and managed to stop its struggling. Not wasting another second, he sped to the woman lying on the ground. His heart stopped when he saw her there motionless.

He shouldn't have permitted this to happen. It was his fault. He never could protect anyone close to him. Cursed. It was as if he'd been cursed at birth- a hypothesis not that far-fetched if one took into account his conception details. After all, children always did pay for their parents' mistakes. But hadn't he paid enough already?

"Caroline, are you alright?" his hand cupped her head, holding it still as she groaned, clouded, forest green eyes looking at him. "Can you hear me? Can you move your legs and arms?"

Panic was clear in his voice while he waited for her answer with bated breath.

"Yes, I'm fine," she rasped out and attempted to stand up, but only made it halfway. Immediately, a burning pain erupted from her ribcage, a wave of dizziness shrouding her vision, a black veil covering it.

"Whoa, take it easy love. Where does it hurt?"

 _Love_. There went that wretched word that had her heart doing somersaults. His voice was so warm; filling her heart with feelings her throbbing head could not wrap itself around. Only in the safe quarters of her room would she ponder on them.

"I'm fine, really. Just a little winded," she tried to play off her injury. For the second time she went to stand up. This time, she almost made it. The problem surged when weight was applied to her right ankle. A cry of pain escaped her lips before she could rein it in. It felt as if someone had stabbed her and was now twisting the knife.

Had Klaus not been holding her, she would have landed straight on her face. Diagnosing herself, she deduced that the fall had resulted in a mild ankle sprain. Tight hands were holding her upright, one wound around her hand and the other gently over her waist. The feeling of them on her body sent shivers down her spine.

The man was so close to her that she could sense his intoxicating smell invading her nostrils. Their heads were separated by merely two centimeters and the fall must have really messed with her brain because all it could process was how easy it would be to lean in and kiss him.

No, shock was clearly speaking now.

Shaking her head to snap out of it, Caroline concentrated on the man who had apparently spoken to her and was expecting an answer.

"Sorry, what did you just say?" she questioned without offering any other explanation. What could she have said otherwise? _I was too busy contemplating kissing you._

Yeah, like that would go well with the man who appeared ready to run even at the prospect of friendship, let alone more. No, the fall had clearly rendered her delusional.

"I was asking if you want us to go see a doctor."

"No," she quickly responded, not at all keen on taking a trip to a hospital. "I'm fine; it's just a couple of bruises and a mild sprain. Nothing a day or two of resting won't heal."

Klaus still seemed skeptical, but after considering her job, chose not to argue. She appeared to be well, save for the ankle and the red hue covering her cheeks, making her look a tad feverish, but that was probably the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"Lean on me and we'll slowly head back to the horse," he added in the end.

Caroline tried to do just that, but the first step was pure agony. Her battered bone could not stand even the slightest pressure, but determination not to appear even weaker kicked in. Toughing it out, she bit her lip and took another step. By now, she was already panting, eyes closed in an attempt to block it out.

"This is hurting you, isn't it?" Klaus immediately noticed.

She wanted to deny the obvious, but feared her voice would give her away even further so she shook her head. Not entirely convincingly because what followed was a heavy sigh and the feel of arms tightly wrapping around her as he literally swept her off her feet and into his embrace.

Taken by utter surprise, a loud yelp escaped her lips, her fingers immediately wrapping around his neck granting her some support in case she went tumbling to the ground again.

Although she seriously doubted Klaus would ever permit that.

"You can never admit to needing help, can you?" he exasperatedly asked.

"I was doing perfectly fine; we just had to take it a bit slower." Ungrateful- that was how her words had sounded and she realized it the moment they were out. "But thank you. This is better," her conscience and sense of right and wrong prompted her to add.

They came to an abrupt halt in front of his dirty white mane- Domino- Caroline had heard Klaus call her. "I'm going to help get you up here and then I'll tie the horses together so we take them both back. Will you be okay while I do that?"

Logic screamed that they were tame animals and what had happened to her had been a pure strike of bad luck, but however loathe she was to admit it, the incident had left her a bit weary of climbing back in the saddle so soon. Still, she was no crybaby and this was the most practical solution.

"Just hurry, will you?" was all she muttered.

Not waiting to be told twice, Klaus deposited her on the animal's back with the utmost care, mindful of her ankle, treating her like a porcelain doll that would break at any rough handling when the truth was that she was so much tougher than anybody knew.

Just not right now.

Sensing her unease, Klaus ran to the other horse and tied them together in less than a minute. Then, he approached Domino again and without previous warning, climbed behind Caroline, his hands wrapped around her torso, holding the ropes tightly, to avoid another unforeseen incident.

Just like before, the blonde's body responded to his nearness, vibrating at the feel of him holding her tightly against him, as she molded perfectly into him.

The way she unwillingly reacted to him scared her senseless. These feelings were more than unwanted mostly because she was sure that he could never reciprocate, but also because in a few days he would vanish from her life never to be seen again.

And having her heart broken twice in less than two months was a feat that not even Caroline Forbes wished to ever achieve.

"We'll be there soon," Klaus reassured, convinced that her reaction was owed to fear rather than mind-boggling feelings that both feared to face.

True to his words, they returned to the stable without another accident. Thankfully, a hotel worker was there and Klaus asked- more like ordered- him to take care of the horses.

To confuse her poor heart even further, he resumed carrying her all the way back to their room, ignoring the disdainful looks people were throwing them. The only one who seemed to enjoy their misunderstood display of affection was the receptionist who winked at Caroline meaningfully.

Caroline flashed a complicit smile under Klaus's furrowed eyebrow. This would be a mystery he would not crack. The man appeared to get the message because he rolled his eyes and continued.

Never before had a bed looked more alluring than now, her body longing for the soft mattress, but when Klaus laid her in it, she found that she missed his protective hold, musky smell and warm touch.

The bed never couldn't compete with Klaus Mikaelson.

With him entering the bathroom, Caroline expected their moment to be over, for him to retreat back to his silent corner. Like always, choose to be alone and miserable.

Only this time he didn't.

He returned with an ice pack wrapped around a wash cloth and gingerly placed it on her foot, after removing her boots.

It was like somebody had replaced the Klaus she knew and was familiar with, leaving in his stead a man used to taking care of others. Somebody without thousands of defense mechanisms. Afterwards, he went to the kitchen, making her think the magic had been broken for good this time, only to return with a glass of water and two painkillers.

Sitting down next to her on the bed, he handed them to her. "Is there anything else I can get for you? Some tea, maybe?"

Caroline wanted to ask who he was and what he'd done to Klaus, but refrained from fear of spoiling the rare occasion.

"I'm good, thank you."

His eyes flashed to her swollen ankle and to the bruises that were starting to come back to the surface, the thin layer of concealer starting to disappear.

"It wasn't your fault, Klaus," she felt compelled to add upon having understood his current train of thoughts. She was starting to sound like a broken record in his presence with this phrase, but it wasn't her fault that he seemed to want to carry the blame for pure bad luck.

If a meteorite collapsed on her right now, Caroline was sure that Klaus would find a way to blame it on himself.

"I was the one who got the brilliant idea to race you, Klaus. You couldn't have prevented this."

 _If I hadn't been near you, I could have,_ he wanted to say, but the fighting spirit in her emerald eyes stopped him. Maybe she was right. Perhaps he could distance himself from his past; just for two weeks perhaps he could allow himself the luxury of a normal life, without the hatchet of vengeance towering over him.

Maybe this game of cat and mouse of which he'd been a part of for the last years could take a break. He could be allowed a reprieve in which he could dream that his life was normal, that not everything he touched turned to ashes.

"You might be right," he finally ventured to say aloud. "This time it could be different," he reflected out loud.

Truth be told, Caroline did not understand much of what he was babbling and the pills she'd taken were starting to make her drowsy, but she could not help feeling optimistic in regards to Klaus.

Today could just have been the turning point. That moment in which he chose to accept her extended hand and come off the ledge from which he'd been dangling. Or maybe she was high on painkillers and adrenaline.

Clarity would come with sleep. There was only one thing left unsaid that she had to clarify now.

"I would have won that race and you know it. So you owe me dinner," she muttered through half closed eyes.

Klaus would have argued that she cheated and that nullified the race, but found he didn't want to. What he truly desired was for them to have that dinner together. To talk about whatever pleased her heart while enjoying the best food and to see her smile because of him. That were what his heart really longed for. And he would not deny it anymore. For two weeks he would try to go back to being the person he'd been before the blindfold had been lifted off his eyes.

Before he'd understood who the Mikaelson family was in reality. The monster he was groomed to be.

"That I do, Caroline. I do," he whispered before she fell asleep, not entirely sure she even heard it, but even if they'd fallen on deaf ears, these had been the most honest words he'd said in a long time.

He'd give whatever was building between him and Caroline two weeks before he'd squander it.

Two weeks of pure bliss before returning to the Inferno that was his life. Two weeks of Heaven before lowering himself back to Hell for good.

What he hadn't taken into account was how much things could change in two weeks.

Secrets could come out.

Lives could be turned upside down.

And people could die.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm really sorry that this chapter took so long, but I've had a lot on my plate with tedious exams to try and get into med school. Anyway, I've tried to make it extra long to somehow make up for the delay. Once again, I want to promise that updates will continue to come, but probably at a slow pace as I try to juggle everything I've got going on.**

 **Now, I'd like to thank every single one of you who is still reading this story and adding it to their favourite/follow alerts and leaving reviews. They truly are the best motivators to write faster and better. So, if you have the time, it would mean a lot to me if you would, please, let me know what your thoughts were on this chapter as well.**

 **Thank you, in advance, to those who review...**


	12. Chapter 12

When Caroline came to again it was already dark. Night had fallen, wrapping them all in its blanket of shadows. Silence extended all over her, but at least the throbbing in her head had eased considerably. Moreover, her ankle had been reduced to a dull, insignificant bother that could be easily ignored.

A glance at the clock revealed that it was a quarter to five. She'd slept for over 8 hours due to the painkillers. A soft breathing rasped through to her. Klaus. Immediately the events from the evening rained down on her.

Now, she could analyze them with clarity. There was no doubt that she was starting to feel something for him. She didn't think it was love- there had been no time for that to actually develop –but she certainly felt quite strongly about the man.

Until yesterday, she'd been convinced that he didn't and would never reciprocate, but her perception had been mildly altered after seeing him with her. He'd lowered his walls a great deal and the concern in his mercurial orbs couldn't have been faked.

He cared for her.

Perhaps he saw her as a friend.

That was mostly the case and she preferred to think so. Have low expectations so that her heart would not be shattered again. God, when had all of this become so complicated?

Suffocated by the lack of fresh air and hoping that it would help ease her troubled mind, Caroline gently moved her foot. The pain wasn't intensified greatly by the small feat so, with increased confidence, the woman dragged her feet to the edge of the mattress and stood up.

Gingerly, she applied pressure on the bruised ankle, but to her joy, found that it could take it. In a few small steps, the blonde reached to the balcony wincing at the slight creak of the floor. Instantly, green eyes searched for the sleeping figure on the ground, hoping she hadn't woken him up.

Thankfully, he appeared lost in the realm of sleep. The image prompted her to momentarily pause. Klaus seemed so peaceful. No nightmares haunting him, no sadness hidden behind his every word. What's more, a faint smile lifted the corners of his lips.

This was probably the Klaus Mikaelson before war and other family drama- like Henrik's death- had rendered him cold and emotionless. Although the woman could bet her life that was only a façade. A mask to shield his real self.

Just as she was opening the terrace door, a piece of paper that hadn't been there before caught her attention. Curios by nature, Caroline derailed from her path and directing her cautious steps around the makeshift bed, she reached the timber, polished table on which it laid.

The light was dim, a few flickers of moonlight emerging from outside and, at first she could not make out what it was.

Black, pencil lines were all she could distinguish. Not much, but enough to understand that it was a drawing. Klaus's drawing.

Hesitance crept in. Most likely it was personal. Her conscience was screaming for her to put it back and that if he'd wish to share it with her, he would, but her heart insisted that she take a better look.

Eventually, the latter won.

Retracing her steps back to the open door, the sketch clutched in her hand, she exited into the crisp night air, closing the entrance after her. The slight chill served to wake her up entirely and for a moment all she could focus on was the view extending before her.

Still early in the morning, the moon was low, barely above sea level, preparing to vanquish her place to the sun. Light and dark. Always in equilibrium. Neither able to exist without the other. Kind of like how she viewed Klaus. He wasn't fully consumed by darkness, but nobody could call him a person of light.

No, he existed in a sort of balance between the two, both fighting to take over, neither fully succeeding.

Plopping down in one of the rocking chairs, as to not put too much strain on her leg at once, Caroline inhaled the salty aroma of the ocean, more potent at night and, basking in the comforting peace, took another look at the drawing.

Her heart caught in her throat.

Admittedly, a personal image, perhaps from his childhood –Henrik - had been expected. Anything but what lay before her eyes.

A genuine representation of the horse she'd ridden today stared back at her: perfectly groomed, thick mane and humane eyes. Yet that was not what had rendered her speechless.

It was her.

She was staring at a perfect portrayal of herself. From her wavy curls, freely blowing in the wind to the carefree grin on her lips, he couldn't have been more accurate.

The image exuded the utter exaltation she'd felt today when he'd helped her accomplish one of her childhood dreams. Warmth had made its way to her eyes, blurring her view of the breathtaking landscape, but Caroline didn't give a damn.

They were happy tears, a smile already blooming on her face.

Perhaps he had more light than he let on, after all.

Minutes trickled by and Caroline remained enchanted by the drawing. Sunlight was starting to bleed from above the crystal ocean, signaling the start of another day. A good one, hoped Caroline. After all, there were only two days left before some of the guests would start arriving for the preparations of the wedding. Then, more or less a week before all of this would come to an end.

Many thoughts wrestled to take over, but her brain could only focus on the picture of herself. She should probably put it back, before Klaus woke and noticed that she'd seen it. The unpredictable man might consider it an intrusion of his privacy.

The last thing she wanted was to take two steps backwards regarding Klaus and for him to retreat back to his impenetrable shell.

Her plan was not to be carried on because barely had she stood up that the door to the balcony was opened, the silhouette of her roommate towering over her, clad in a black t-shirt and matching shorts. Worry lingered in his glance for a few seconds as he searched her eyes for any sign of distress or injury. Since meeting him those seemed to be among the few things that could befall this innocent woman with whom life seemed fixated on picking a fight.

Only when he found nothing did he allow it to drop down to her ankle, see how it fared.

To say his eyes didn't reach their destination would be an understatement. What they stopped on was the piece of paper clutched in her hand. A curious eyebrow rose, but all mystery dissipated when Caroline tentatively attempted to hide it behind her back.

Quickly Klaus understood that his drawing was the culprit for her puffy eyes.

The goddamned drawing he'd forgotten to hide. The one that spoke too much of him, allowing another crack in his armor. The armor that he still couldn't lower entirely although he'd promised to try. The armor that his own family was responsible for building. Sturdy warfare really was his father's specialty, wasn't it? That and ruining people. Tearing them down and shredding their souls until all that remained was a gaping, black abyss that not only swallowed his victims but also anyone in their close proximity.

When one suffered like he had at the hands of the people supposed to offer unconditional love, a reluctance to let anyone in tended to creep in and wreck all possible relationships. However, the woman standing before him had managed the impossible: won his trust.

That and only that was what kept him from getting angry at her for going through his private belongings. Had it been someone else, Klaus wasn't sure he would have tolerated such behavior and that said offender would have escaped unharmed. Inhaling deeply, one apologetic look from the woman was enough to make most of his annoyance dissipate. It was a weird effect she had on him.

"I didn't know you liked to draw," offered Caroline once it became clear that he wasn't about to start the conversation.

"I used to," he walked past her and sat down in one of the chairs, facing away from her, concentrating on the sun slowly climbing back to its throne. "Now, I'm not that sure."

What was there for him to draw inspiration from? Having returned home, Klaus had attempted to use his art as an outlet for all of his ire, hatred and desire for vengeance. But there were only so many pieces with blood, gore and death that one could hang around his house and remain sane.

The sketch that Caroline was holding was the first time in months that he'd felt the need to immortalize a moment. Keep it there for when life returned to that darkness characterizing him so that he would remember. Remember Caroline and the few moments in which he had pretended that a death threat did not loom over his head and hers for being near him. Pretend that he was not responsible for many deaths that would have been prevented had he cared enough to question what was being imposed on him.

Pretend that he was worthy of being in her light.

"It's really good," she bit her lip and sat down in the other chair.

Klaus remained turned away from her, concentrating on the dawn braking in front of them, lost inside his own thoughts. Caroline wasn't even sure he'd heard her. It was frustrating how he went from being a person which obviously cared to a stone cold wall that refused to budge an inch. Showing emotion –he seemed to view it as weakness. Sure, to the wrong person it could be considered leverage, but not with her. He'd never hurt her so why would she ever wish to do such a thing? More importantly, how could he think so lowly of her?

Maybe it was the early hour or the paradise that enveloped them or maybe it got simply too much for her mind to take, but she couldn't keep quiet. Watch him literally isolate himself and pay for sins he had not committed.

"It's not healthy, you know?" she addressed him. "Keeping everything bottled up, acting like you don't care."

"I don't," he immediately bit back. "I _can't_ care. If I do, then I open myself up to _him_ again. He can take it away from me again."

Who was he talking about? What was he referring to? Caroline was almost afraid of the answers and sure that they did not justify his manner of carrying himself.

"And faking indifference, isolating yourself from people who genuinely care of what befalls you is the solution?"

"It's worked out well these last months."

And it had. All he'd did was drink, sleep and seldom eat, when his body required it. After Henrik nobody but Camille had managed to get him to somewhat come back to the land of the living. And when she'd died, he'd slipped even further into darkness's embrace, his fears confirmed. Until Caroline.

She'd managed to make him open up more than Camille ever had in such a short time. It was terrifying. She was drawing out the best part of him, the one that couldn't surface, the one that others had taken advantage of.

"Has it? Has it truly worked out, Klaus? Were you happy when I met you? Because you seemed to be the opposite."

There she went. Offering him a piece of brutal honesty that he couldn't counter. Yet she was missing a crucial part of the bigger picture.

"Being happy is not my goal in life. I've come to terms that such a thing is impossible for me."

"Oh yeah? And what is exactly your goal? Because being miserable in a bar, drinking yourself to death and pushing everyone away from you surely can't be it," she had stood up, her voice climbing with each convinced word. How dare he speak like that? "I mean I know I never actually met neither Henrik nor Marcel, but I'm sure those amazing persons you described wouldn't agree with your outstanding life philosophy."

"Caroline," a warning undertone seeped into his voice. "Stop!"

"No! I'm done walking on eggshells around you. Marcel gave his life so that you could live. Do you honestly think this is what he had in mind?"

"Caroline," a sternness that he'd never used with her before showed.

"I bet that he's watching and resenting you for throwing his sacrifice to the wind. Both of them are probably let down by what you've become: a bitter, jaded man stuck in his own past, refusing the hand extended to him over and over again."

Too late did Caroline realize that she had probably crossed a line.

"That's enough!" he stood up, downright fuming, rage boiling behind his caustic eyes. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Caroline. Don't push me because you might see a side of me you won't like."

While Klaus was expecting fear, disappointment was all Caroline showed.

"Right now, I would give anything to just see a side of you," liquid clouded emerald eyes. "Anything real and not just a piece of fiction you sell to the world because in spite of the countless warnings my friends gave me, of how you nearly killed someone in front of me and almost killed me, I still reached out to you," one of the tears rolled down. "But now I see that it was all wistful thinking. You'll never trust me enough, you'll never allow me in and I'm done. I can't see you ruin what's left of your life and have you ruin mine in the process. "

Under his regretful gaze, Caroline slipped towards the door, faltering, silently begging him to say something. Argue with her. Contradict her. Give her a reason to stay. Anything.

Nothing came. Only acceptance and that served to harden her conviction that she was doing the right thing even though it hurt.

"You can go or stay for the wedding, I don't care, but after that I'm going back to Mystic Falls and you'll get your wish and never see me again," she mumbled before turning her back, slamming the door in her wake.

For a brief second she was paralyzed, watching the balcony and hoping against hope that he would come after her. That he would find it in him to prove her wrong. Of course that he didn't.

Feeling like the biggest fool of all for still saving some kind of false faith only for Klaus Mikaelson to squander, the four walls enclosing her resembled a prison that she longed to escape. Going for the first article of clothing her eyes rested on: a flimsy sundress and a pair of sandals, Caroline bitterly realized that the drawing that had started all this was still tightly wound in her fingers.

Unable to help it, she cast one more look at it. Happiness was just as clear in her features there as the tears on her face. A lone one fell, smudging the pencil. Now both reality and fiction told the same story- the one of a hurt woman.

A woman who was tired of being hurt by the people she cared about .

The sketch was now a perfect reflection of her feelings and she could bear no longer to watch it. So she let it drop down to the floor and finished getting dressed as quickly as possible.

Dead set on leaving the room immediately, Caroline was oblivious to stomping all over the drawing on her way out.

* * *

Left all alone, Klaus pondered on everything Caroline had reproached him. Undoubtedly, she'd hit a nerve with her harsh remarks, but he was left wondering how much was actually true.

Were Marcel and Henrik truly disappointed with him?

They were the only reasons he'd got out of bed for a long time so that thought was really disconcerting. Of course, they'd want him to make the most of his life, but what was he supposed to do?

Every time he let someone in, they died.

They died because of the bloody family legacy he had following him.

Yet with Caroline, he'd wanted nothing more than to let her in. Tell her everything and give the free choice of standing by him. But he'd reigned himself in all so that her safety wouldn't be jeopardized.

All he'd wanted were two weeks of reprieve from running away, to just be a man who was sharing a room in Malibu with a beautiful woman, but it appeared as if he couldn't even manage one hour.

Nothing seemed more appealing than chasing after her, but if he did there was the risk of losing her forever.

 _You are losing her anyway. She's walking away from you._

As if to amplify his inner voice, the sound of a door being closed reached him. Convinced that Caroline had left and unable to keep staring at the beaming sun that reminded him of what was slipping past his fingertips, Klaus stepped back into the hotel room.

Meeting his expectations, it was deserted. Plopping down on the bed, a crumpled paper in the center of the room caught his attention. Slowly, he walked towards it although he knew before picking it up what is was. And he knew it very well.

His drawing.

She'd walked all over it in her fit of rage and he couldn't blame her. All she'd tried to do was get to know him, maybe help ease him out of his shell unknowingly opening up wounds that to this day continued to bleed profoundly. Although her words had cut him deeper than bullet wounds and torture methods, it wasn't her whom he blamed. He didn't even blame Mikael.

The only person whom he loathed for the situation he was in was himself. He had known it would only end in heartbreak yet he'd still agreed to come with her. Try as he might to fool himself that he was simply doing it to protect her, clearly there was something deeper that he'd refused to acknowledge for fear.

And now it was too late.

What could have been was now wreckage from which there was nothing to salvage. Caroline had made it perfectly clear that she no longer wished him around her. She didn't care about him anymore.

Just as he was about to finish destroying the piece of paper Klaus caught something he hadn't before.

A smudge ruining Caroline's innocently happy face.

Understanding dawned on him. Tears.

It probably made him a slimy bastard but in addition to his heart clenching for being the cause of her pain, he also felt relief. Relief because that meant that she still somewhat cared.

Not all was lost and maybe it didn't have to be.

He could find her, tell her everything and then allow her to choose.

Klaus had almost gone out to do just that when it occurred to him that maybe the story didn't have to end like this. Because surely once she understood who he really was, she'd go running in the opposite direction.

Maybe he could steal a few hours if she allowed it. A few hours were all he needed. A proper goodbye before honesty finished ruining whatever it was building between them.

With that in mind, Klaus settled down at his laptop to make suitable preparations, including a phone call to someone with whom he never would have thought to speak again.

* * *

Meanwhile, Caroline had drifted towards the closest beach. Still early, there were a few people there, three of which soundly slept through what appeared to be a hangover, judging by the empty bottles of vodka scattered at their feet.

 _I could use some alcohol too._

It would help numb her. Make her stop feeling. Enter a blissful state of unfounded giddiness.

However, it would only be a temporary cure and she refused to wander down the path Klaus normally chose. The path she'd so fervently criticized.

Bearing that in mind, Caroline plopped down on a more isolated patch of golden sand, previous events still running circles in her head.

Admittedly, she'd been too harsh with the man, crossing some boundaries and undoubtedly slashing at barely closed wounds, but she couldn't help it. It was downright disconcerting to see someone so hell bent on being alone and miserable. On discarding the sacrifices others had made. All for some bloody secrets he refused to tell.

She was tired of secrets. She was tired of watching them ruin everything in their wake and that was precisely why she'd lost it. Because whether they wanted to accept it or not, she cared about that stubborn man.

Drawing her knees to her chin, Caroline focused on the ocean lying at her feet. She remained there for God knows how many hours, simply staring into the distance and seldom studying the people that had started to fill in. Families happily enjoying their holidays, mothers tenderly caring for their children, couples showcasing their love with passionate kisses. Such a diverse crowd and love seemed to be the one thing connecting them.

Suddenly, thoughts of her own wedding with Stefan that should have been right around the corner invaded her. Surprisingly though, they didn't linger as much as they normally did, being replaced by those of Klaus and their complicated relationship. If one could name it that way and if it continued to exist, assuming that he hadn't taken off already.

A thud pulled her out of her reverie only to be greeted with a ball slowly rolling away from her. Alerted- and with good reason if one took into consideration the last couple of days- green eyes darted around in search of the culprit.

It revealed itself in the form of a young girl, no more than 6, running in her direction. Ebony curls framed her heart-shaped face, wide charcoal eyes focusing on Caroline. She was wearing a cute bathing suit with pink ribbons and polka dots, plump cheeks red from the effort of running in the sand.

Picking up the ball, Caroline met her halfway and dropped to her knees in order for them to be eye level.

"I'm guessing this is yours," she smiled and handed the red ball back.

The girl nodded, smiling joyfully and thanking Caroline.

"It's no problem sweetheart. What's your name?"

"Laura," came the quick, bold answer. "Would you like to play with me?"

There it went. Typical child bluntness and faith. How she wished her life would be just as easy and carefree like that of youngsters. Wearing their hearts on their sleeves like jaded adults no longer could.

"Please," the girl added. "My parents said they're tired and I have no one else to play with."

Glancing to the left, Caroline understood that the people focusing on her must have been the girl's parents. They appeared young and also to be having their hands full with a newborn baby they were trying to soothe. Almost begging was the gaze they sent Caroline.

"Of course," she eventually agreed.

After that the next couple of hours went by in a blur, Laura getting the most of her time as Caroline obliged to most of her requests –playing football, volleyball and building a sandcastle. Eventually, her parents came over to collect their daughter, gratefully thanking the blonde for spending some time with the little girl.

Bidding them goodbye and promising to return to the beach tomorrow, should she have the time, Laura finally let go of her hand and planted a sweet kiss on the surgeon's cheek.

Alone again, some of her sour mood came back at the realization that she would have to go back to the hotel. Come face to face with Klaus following what was said between them seemed like a daunting task. Mostly because she was tired of fighting, but also because following some reflecting, the woman had come to the conclusion that she'd made a mistake too by dragging Henrik and Marcel into the discussion.

 _Maybe you won't have to face him. You did say he could leave, after all._

That pestering voice in her head was right again. Not entirely surprising, that mere thought made her cringe. The honest truth, that she wouldn't ever admit unless he apologized, was that she would miss him and she did care whether he stayed or not.

Out of the blue, a couple of teenagers started chasing each other down the beach, venturing dangerously close to her. Their heavy footsteps combined with a surfboard tumbling right next to her led to the source of Caroline and Laura's pride: the imposing sandcastle to crumble.

A sad smile broke out at the association her mind unwantedly made. The foundation had been the cause of the problem –shaky and small in comparison to the gigantic towers. Just like her and Klaus. Their relationship was based on a string of secrets and lies, neither really knowing the other.

 _I don't want him to go before we get a chance to clarify things._

That realization had Caroline on her feet immediately, briskly walking back to the hotel. When she got there, she bypassed the friendly receptionist, not even bothering with nodding at her on her way to the elevator. Which was taking too damn long. Her nerves extended to the limit and unable to sit around doing nothing, she decided to take the stars.

Hoping she wasn't too late.

Nearly afraid, the medic gathered her wits and opened the door, feeling all air being knocked out of her lungs.

There was nobody inside. Not a trace of the man could be found and she had even searched the balcony. The makeshift bed had been tidied up as well.

He was gone. And this time for good, Caroline could wager.

Prickling her orbs, tears were threatening to surge when she noticed, right on top of the blankets a small scroll. Upon picking it up, Caroline made out a few words written on the back, but impossible to discern so she unfolded it, feeling her heart race in anticipation.

Another drawing met her beguiled eyes and it was almost identical to the one she'd discarded in anger took over her again at how well he managed to capture emotion inside his works and transmit it to the people around him.

 _Thank you for your honesty,_ was scribbled in a corner.

It felt like a goodbye. It probably was one too. And it sure as hell wasn't supposed to hurt like this. Seeing him leave had always been part of their deal, but she couldn't help herself.

Emotions always did get the best of her.

While she collapsed back on the soft mattress, that annoying voice in the back of her head reminded Caroline of the neatly written sentences on the back of the paper and she breathlessly turned it and read them.

 _I'm prepared to grant you the same honesty you offered me, show you something real –as you so bluntly put it. But I should warn you it is not good things that await to be told, more likely worse than anything you could ever imagine. In case you choose to hear them anyway, please meet me in the parking lot at 7, but if this has become too much for you, all you have to do is not show up. I will understand, my bags are already packed and you will never hear from me again._

Within seconds of reading and processing the message, Caroline checked the time finding that it was almost 5 o'clock. Which meant that she had two hours to decide whether she wanted this entangled story with Klaus to continue or if she should put an end to it before either one got too emotionally invested.

 _Like you're not already neck deep in sentiments._

Still, regardless of how much she pretended it was a hard choice, in the end it was one of the easiest ones she'd made in a long time.

There was no way that she was allowing Klaus to walk away without first hearing whatever he had to say. Although she doubted his 'sins' were as grave as he wanted to pretend. Not like he was a serial killer or a hit man, right? He was a soldier, for crying out loud.

With that in mind, she took a shower to get rid of the sand stuck in her hair and also used the time and soothing water to ponder further on what was to be done with Klaus. Yet the situation was so complicated that it sent her into a tailspin and awakened a raging headache that prompted her to decide to just play it by heart.

Putting on a clean set of clothes and applying minimal make-up, the woman was ready with half an hour to go. Nerves were starting to creep in and as a result she started to pace all over the room. Doubt was starting to creep in.

Cold feet.

She was getting cold feet at the thoughts of what Klaus had to tell her.

Perhaps it truly was a dark story that revealed a sinister side of him. If he'd truly done unforgivable, despicable things, maybe it was better if she didn't know. It might be better to preserve the image she'd constructed of him and not allow it to crumble to pieces.

Eventually, and with only minutes to spare she did decide to risk it and go meet Klaus anyway.

The what-ifs would have weighed like lead on her heart if she didn't hear him out.

True to his word, Klaus was indeed waiting for her in the parking lot, back resting against the passenger seat of a black sedan.

He'd most likely rented a car, deduced Caroline immediately. To leave if she wouldn't have come.

One thing she couldn't miss was how his eyes lost some of their distant, unforgiving look upon seeing her.

"Hello, Caroline," he greeted as soon as she was within hearing range.

She responded with a curt nod, finding that having him face to face amplified every feeling hidden within her heart. Be it anger, frustration or something warm and fuzzy that she refused to name, in his presence they increased tenfold.

But she wasn't about to show it until he told her everything. That was why she was here after all.

"Could you, please, get in the car?"

His question was somewhat guarded, Klaus also resorting to hide all emotions from her. Still, some longing managed to seep through anyway.

"Why?"

"I promise it will all make sense if you get in the car."

Wide grey eyes waited for her answer and although he was acting quite strangely, Caroline finally exclaimed," Fine!" and entered the open passenger door, assuming he wanted to go to a more secluded place.

A few minutes both remained quiet until the blonde noticed he'd got out of Malibu and onto the highway.

"Where are you taking me?" she breathlessly asked, an ounce of fear mixed with typical curiosity.

"You'll see."

Furrowing her eyebrows at the cryptic sentence, she bit back," I'm not here to play games with you, Klaus."

"I know perfectly well why you're here and we'll get there, Caroline."

"When will that be?"

Sucking air into his lungs, most likely to avoid a more rash answer to her incessant interrogatory, Klaus took his eyes off the empty road for a second and stared at her.

"I have something planned for tonight, a way to try and make up for the times I've hurt and let you down. After that, I _will_ tell you everything you desire to know."

"Something planned?" she echoed dumbly after him. "Like a surprise?"

The disbelief in her tone amused him to no ends even if the prospect of bringing his past out into the light had him cold and sweaty at the same time.

"Exactly like that."

The rest of the short trip was peppered with false speculations on Caroline's behalf as she tried to figure out where they were going. She wasn't even close.

"Los Angeles?" Caroline read off the sign not believing her eyes. "What are we doing here?"

"You'll see," he smirked and expertly maneuvered the car in the bustling streets.

Never would Caroline have pegged him as the type to have gone to Los Angeles before. It didn't seem like his scene.

"We're here," and he pulled up the car on Hollywood Boulevard of all places.

The second Caroline exited, her mouth opened wide in awe of what extended before her: the most elegant shops she'd ever laid eyes on, street artists clad in their costumes and fully in character, but most of all the lights. A million lights engulfed the City of Angels, making it even more spectacular than movies depicted it.

Klaus enjoyed watching awe stretch across her face and hated to interrupt her moment, but they were on a timeline.

"Come with me," and he led the way through an intricate string of alleys until their destination extended before them.

"Oh my God," was all Caroline could say when her eyes landed on the neon lights above the dark, maroon building.

 _Cirque du Soleil._

The place where she'd dreamed ever since being young to go to. A trapeze artist- she'd said she would be, but her overprotective mother, who had just become a single mom, had refused to allow her to climb such a dangerous contraption.

When childhood had ended, her dream had morphed into that of at least seeing a trapeze act at the renowned circus.

"How…" she started to ask but found the response herself. The plane ride. She'd mentioned it then as their first date. "You remembered. I wasn't sure you'd even heard me."

Giddiness as she'd seldom experienced enveloped her. If this didn't show he was a good, attentive man, Caroline didn't know what would.

"Thank you!" she jumped into his surprised hands. "Thank you so much!" Words paled in contrast to what he'd done for her. He'd made true of her oldest unaccomplished dream. Not even Stefan- to whom she was engaged- had ever done such a thing even though she'd mentioned Cirque du Soleil a lot more often to him.

Come to think of it, he was probably contemplating what lie he should say next to screw Valerie behind her back.

"We should go in," he mumbled even though letting her go was the last thing he wanted. This was probably their last embrace because once she knew everything, not even this gesture would compensate for it.

"So that's how it's going to be? You won't even say 'Hello,' Nik?"

That voice. He knew that voice before turning around and to say he wasn't pleased she'd shown up here was an understatement.

As burned, Klaus let go of Caroline, muscles tensing, jaw clenching at the woman's voice. In sync, both turned to look at who had addressed the words. Recognition shone brightly in Klaus's eyes along with an emotion she'd never seen before and upon turning her head, she could gather the same in the stunning, blonde woman who'd spoken.

"What are you doing here, Rebekah?"

"Seriously?" a nervous chuckle escaped. "That's all you have to say to me after two years, Nik?"

Who was this woman? Caroline wanted to ask, but even with her presence she felt like she was intruding, let alone if she were to speak. Was she an ex-girlfriend? Whoever she was, Klaus was becoming more and more nervous and agitated. More so, this Rebekah was the only person Caroline had heard call him Nik. It exuded a deep personal connection between them.

"I don't see what else is there to say. Everything that was needed was said a long time ago."

"Yet you're the one who called and asked for a favor."

"I also remember telling you not to show up here."

The iciness in his tone was very explicit, but without effect on the woman.

"Yeah, well, we don't always get what we want, Nik." Unexpectedly, some of the haughty fight in her dissipated. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"You've seen that I'm fine. Why are you still here?" he seemed to somewhat shelter Caroline from view and apparently Rebekah picked up on it too.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to Barbie here?"

Caroline narrowed her eyes at the mocking in the other woman's voice and pushed away from Klaus. "My name is Caroline Forbes, not Barbie. Nice to meet you," she extended her hand with false politeness at the woman who grabbed it.

"Rebekah Mikaelson," her grip tightened but Caroline's face didn't move a muscle. What she couldn't help was her mouth dropping open at the surname.

Mikaelson.

She wasn't an ex-girlfriend, but his sister.

"Judging by your face, I take it you didn't even know Nik had a sister, right, Caroline?"

Her dumbfounded expression must have been enough to confirm Rebekah's suspicion. "I knew that he had a family he didn't speak to. I didn't need any more details," she felt compelled to argue, not let smug Rebekah be entirely right.

"That's because he's ashamed of us. All of us although some have done nothing else but offer him love."

For the first time, the blonde showed that she cared for her brother, resentment coloring her face.

"That's enough, Rebekah," Klaus regained use of his limbs and stepped forward. "We have to go inside."

"Right. I forgot about the show you had me arrange. It was for you, wasn't it?"

Was that jealousy Caroline heard in Rebekah? All she could do was nod, still very much shocked by the family reunion.

"I guess I should thank you then," her eyes warmed considerably. "At least I got to talk to him and know he hasn't wound up dead in some ditch. Still, Caroline, if I were you I would watch myself so you don't end up like the previous unlucky girl."

Connections were being made in Caroline's mind. She was starting to unravel some Mikaelson mystery. Was the girl Rebekah was speaking of Camille?

"Rebekah," warned Klaus.

"You know I'm right, Nik. Make peace with him before it's too late for all those near you."

Now it seemed like she was begging, but Klaus remained stoic as ever.

"Never," ice flooded Caroline's body at the tone he used. "I will never make peace with him and you know very well why."

Resigned, Rebekah shook her head, "Elijah," she bit her lip." You know he walked away from it too and I know he would love to hear from you."

"You also know that's not going to happen," he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, words taking their toll on him. "Both of you need to stay away from me or _Mikael_ might find out and you have seen the consequences."

Dark red lips formed a sad, accepting smile. "Just remember one thing: Always and Forever. Elijah and I will never forget, Nik."

With that she left a very shaken up Klaus Mikaelson and a somewhat illuminated Caroline Forbes. He was running from someone in his family. He'd distanced himself and in order to ensure that he'd stayed in Syria fighting in a bloody, senseless war until his mind and body could no longer take it, only to seek refuge at the bottom of a bottle once he'd come back.

Klaus was like a statue, watching the retreating figure of Rebekah Mikaelson, the only person who could have helped him pull of Caroline's surprise. To say it hurt to see his little sister again after two years and to be this cold towards her undeservedly but for her safety was not enough. It had been like ripping open the scars that Caroline had left untouched this morning, leaving his heart a flayed, bleeding mess.

"I…" Caroline fought for something to say, but came up empty. Questions, reassurances, none wished to come out.

"I'll answer whatever it is later, like I promised," he shook her and his heartbreak off. "Now we have a show to attend."

Inside the theatre a red haired woman with striking turquoise orbs, dressed in a white leotard greeted and led them to the stage. There must have been around 3 thousand seats and they were all empty. On the Swan Lake decorated stage waited a man in a matching costume and another woman who seemed younger, her raven costume giving an edge the others didn't possess.

They were led to a couple of front row seats where a bottle of what seemed to be expensive champagne waited. This was too much, way too much. It was like a scene from those sappy movies she watched in secret but pretended not to like in front of others.

Heaving a sigh at the beverage Klaus turned at her," It seems like my dear sister has taken some liberties with this."

"Oh, it's totally fine," she answered way too quickly, Caroline realized too late. Heat blossomed in her cheeks at the smirk Klaus threw.

Having had the liquor poured into their glasses, the actress excused herself and headed to the stage. Barely had they clinked their glasses- at Caroline's request –that the lights went off, leaving only a couple of spotlights shining directly on the showmen who had climbed up on their trapezes.

An intricate story was heaved with their ballet moves combined with artistic gymnastics and death-defying jumps from a trapeze to another. It was the story of the well-known Swan Lake, which always made Caroline weep and now was no difference.

Their dramatic movements conveyed even more emotion than usual, prompting silent drops of liquid to slowly roll down her cheeks when the ending neared. The ultimate sacrifice of the main characters in the name of love had her bawling and the final jump in which he caught her tight in his arms signified that their love would last forever, protected by Heaven and its angels.

Though he could genuinely say that the representation was the best he'd ever seen, Klaus had remained mesmerized by a different thing altogether.

Caroline Forbes was living every second of Swan Lake, breathing in sync with the star-crossed lovers whose ending was so tragically beautiful.

By the time it was done both spectators were on their feet excitedly clapping the vivid performance. The three actors soaked it in for just a few moments before the same girl- Odette- came to them.

"You were extraordinary," gushed Caroline before she had a chance to say anything. "It was the best show I've ever seen in my life."

"Thank you," she laughed sincerely." I heard that you dreamed of being a trapeze artist when you were young. Would you like to try it now? It's totally safe, there's a net down to catch you, should you fall."

That second phrase was enough to eradicate any sort of doubt Caroline had. There was one other thing remaining for this day to be downright perfect. "Will you try with me?" she asked Klaus hesitantly, sensing a refusal coming.

Remembering that after they left Cirque du Soleil he will have to honour his promise and tell her everything about his past, he acquiesced to her outrageous demand.

For the next hour, the girls took Caroline under their wing while Klaus learned what he could from the male artist. Both were fearless and open which delighted their teachers who proudly declared they were ready for a slightly more complicated move.

Caroline was to jump from one trapeze and Klaus to catch her while hanging upside down. If Caroline were honest, a small amount of fear was starting to seep into her bones, making her hands sweat and feet tremble.

Until now, everything she'd tried had been under the supervision of professionals so the prospect of being on her own was quite daunting. Precisely that was why she hesitated before starting to swing, although Klaus was already waiting for her.

"You've got this, don't worry!" the new friends she'd made encouraged.

Risking a glance at her partner for this crazy endeavor, she found him focused, but apparently relaxed, swinging freely on the trapeze. No hint of uneasiness could be grasped in his movements as if he'd been doing this all of his life, not only for 60 minutes.

Not one to ever back down, the blonde breathed in deeply and started the routine, careful to be fully in synch with Klaus. All courage summoned, she unclasped her hands from the cold metal, feeling the force of air hit her in the face as she soared, presumably in the man's direction. Not that she could vouch for it since her eyes had been clammed shut the second she let go.

Panic was starting to set in when after a few seconds nothing happened and she continued to fly in the air.

 _Thank God there's a net below_ , she thought grimly, _I hope it's not too rough._

That was exactly when firm hands enclosed around hers in a tight grip.

He had caught her.

Adrenaline still coursing through her veins, heart pounding in her chest, Caroline opened her eyes when their speed lessened by a fraction and found herself staring right into clouded pools of bright cerulean. Open like they never had been before, simply returning her gaze, wordlessly conveying the emotional depth of the moment. It made her weaker than even the jump had to see him like this and know she was the reason behind it.

Sweaty hands were starting to slip to Caroline's horror. "Don't let go," she breathlessly murmured.

"I won't," and the intensity with which he regarded her sent a shiver through her body.

It was like they were communicating nonverbally, mostly with their eyes but his even tighter, unrelenting vice was also worth a million words.

Were they ever referring to the trapeze act or was more implied there?

Of one thing was Caroline certain: she wasn't imagining this. Impossible.

When they came down they were jumped by their proud professors who urged them to call whenever they came back into the city, assuring them that Cirque du Soleil Los Angeles's doors would always be open to them.

Crisp, night air hit them as they exited the building, but Caroline was way too excited to care. Another one of her dreams had been ticked off her bucket list. It was more than she could have ever imagined.

Gratitude was immense- enough to almost forget how upset she'd been at the beginning of the evening and the reasons why. Even if Rebekah Mikaelson had provided her with plenty of much-needed answers, lots of new questions had arisen, but everything was going too well to be spoiled by those matters.

At least not right now. She wanted to ride the excitement as long as possible.

"Let's go to the beach," she proposed unexpectedly.

Confused, Klaus furrowed his eyebrows, but apparently he wasn't bursting with excitement to have a certain conversation yet because he agreed and started to lead the way.

Like he'd read her mind, the man's footsteps stopped at a small, secluded beach where no more than twenty people could fit at once.

There was nobody else but them at that late hour.

A cold breeze hit her head-on, kicking sand into her eyes. Not easily bothered and entirely mesmerized by the little paradise around her, Caroline lowered down into the sand, staring into the distance. Contemplating her life and how the last couple of hours had affected her.

One thing was certain: they'd shifted her view of Klaus entirely and helped clarify some of the things she felt.

Alerted by movements to her left, Caroline turned and found her companion sat next to her, probably closer than he'd ever voluntarily been to her.

"I think it's time you got the answers you sought."

His voice was steady, but minute micro expressions betrayed how he really felt. Physical pain was close to what he was exuding.

She hated it.

More importantly, she hated to be the cause of that.

"No," she interrupted him. "I don't want to know anything else. Not anymore."

"But there are things that need to be said. Things I have to tell you about me, my family, what we've done."

Everything sounded so ominous it strengthened her decision. Klaus was worthy of her trust and his past couldn't change that. A man capable of doing all those things for her can't have done much wrong in the past and whatever his family had done, Caroline would never hold against him. Nor did she need to know right then.

"Not tonight," she turned so they were facing each other. "I know I'm probably not making a lot of sense right now. I mean, I'm the one who kept badgering you with knowing everything, but this is the happiest I've felt in a long time," she stopped for a bit. "I don't want anything to ruin this night, Klaus."

The words slipping her mouth were like a blessing to him. He would get some more time with her. Deep down, a voice was screaming that he wasn't doing the right thing, that if Caroline knew just what his secrets were, she would be running in the opposite direction and that, in the end, this moment, this lack of sincerity would come back to haunt him.

Despite that, all that he managed to utter was a whispered, "Neither do I."

The wind picked up on his murmur and helped it reach the blonde who smiled in response. Biting her lip and pondering whether she might end up destroying the magic on her own, the woman gathered her wits and covered his hand with hers.

Startled, his eyes immediately drifted down to their entwined hands, feeling to urge ingrained in him throughout the years to pull away. Something held him back though and all he did was relax his fingers and enjoy the warmth radiating from the outstanding being beside him.

Under the moon's spell, safe inside the cocoon created by her soft light, the two remained like that for a few minutes, both gazing at one another, millions of emotions running through their bloodstream, neither daring to move.

Finally, Caroline decided to act. There was no telling what the future held and she might regret wasting this opportunity all of her life. Bearing that in mind, she leaned in and gently pressed her lips onto his.

Electricity erupted though their bodies. At first, Klaus was stiff as a board, surprised by her boldness probably, but then his lips softened. His mouth was on hers unyielding and Caroline could feel the rapid beats of his heart, harmonizing perfectly with the hammering of her heart. It was like they'd been molded into the same human being and all with an innocent kiss.

Then, his lips stopped their assault and his hands found her shoulders.

"No," he mumbled and slowly pushed her away.

Out of breath, flushed and surprised all Caroline could manage was a raspy," Why?"

"We can't do this, Caroline. _I_ can't do this to you."

"What are you talking about?" the sting of rejection clear in her words.

"If you knew who I truly am, you wouldn't be kissing me."

"Stop it already," she cut him off. "I told you that right now I don't care about the things you've done in the past. I know who you are now and I _did_ mean to kiss that person."

"No," his protests grew weaker." It's not in the past. It could come back and haunt me any day and I don't want to put you through that."

"You're not. I'm doing this myself. Just give me, give us a few days. Let go of your ghosts, of that cloud of darkness following you around and allow yourself to live."

"I don't deserve that."

"I think you do. I doubt that those things you've done can be as atrocious as you make them out to be. From my experience, it's always the wrong people who have the guilty conscience. Those truly responsible for hurt in this world couldn't care less. It's the ones fighting for good or to be good that are consumed by remorse."

With that, all fight vanquished from his body. He knew she was misled and missing vital information, but maybe he could do as she said. Just these days.

" _Be happy,"_ Marcel's and Henrik's voices resonated within him and they were the little push he needed to give in.

To seal his deal with himself and make his choice obvious to Caroline, Klaus kissed her again. Tentatively at first, passion rose with each second they spent entwined. Her lips were warm and soft, her desire for him evident and strong like the waves crashing upon the shore next to them. It was wondrous and yet terrifying at the same time, like one of those storms in which people find themselves caught and unable to escape. It was threatening parts of Klaus that he'd kept under lock and key, parts that he couldn't name and at the same time, it was making Caroline feel again. Feel more than she'd ever felt, perhaps.

When they separated it was strictly due to the body's annoying necessity for air. Then, he captured her into his strong arms, and they remained like that- united as one- and taking in their silent accomplice's – the moon- rays' reflection on the water.

It was pure bliss and both surrendered to it. No declarations of affection or love were spoken but they weren't necessary. Actions spoke so much more than puny words of love ever did.

Too bad all good things must come to an end. And their happiness was included on that list.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you _immensely_ to everyone who left a review or followed/favourited this story! Your response affects me deeply and it's wonderful to see that some of you are still engaged in this story. The fact that not everyone abandoned it means the world to me and I would also like to offer a special 'Thank you!' to those few reviewers who have stuck by me since the beginning of this story. **

**Please, keep letting me know what you think! Because hearing your thoughts does make a diffrence and constructive criticism helps me deliver better and better chapters every single time.**


	13. Chapter 13

Sudden movement immediately woke Caroline up. A weak, pained moan followed it. Hazily, she tried to get her brain to wake up.

First thing she noticed were the strong arms holding her and the warmth radiating from the body on which she was laying. Klaus. Then, the sandy beach on which they'd both apparently fallen victims to exhaustion that was now slightly colder, the early morning plagued by rough wind. Their kisses came back to her right away serving to both warm her up and to completely vanquish sleep.

Another whimper reminded her of what had woken her up. Turning her head towards the man who was clutching her to his chest, the blonde noticed sweat glistening on his forehead which was marred with wrinkles, all muscles tightly wound.

A nightmare.

Klaus was having a nightmare.

Memories of the last time she'd witnessed one flooded her and to her utter chagrin, Caroline Forbes found that she was somewhat afraid to be this near to him. Pale, nearly faded bruises still lingered on her throat as a result of the last time she'd tried to intervene.

Still, this seemed different. He was not thrashing around, battling invisible enemies and desperately trying to travel back in time to save Henrik and Marcel. This wasn't a bout of night terrors but a normal bad dream. Or so she hoped, at least.

Gathering her bravery, Caroline whispered his name and laid a gentle hand on his cheek. Unlike last time, he responded to her touch within seconds, hard grey pupils focusing on her, softening ever so slightly upon closing in on her.

"Are you alright?" concern seeped into her soft voice.

Klaus didn't truly have an answer. Images of their kisses had haunted him long after she had fallen asleep in his embrace, snuggling into him like it was the most natural of things. Not at all scared of the man who'd proven able to snap her neck in two. The former soldier had once again marveled at the wonderful creature Caroline Forbes was: so strong and resilient and yet warm and forgiving on the inside.

Too good for him.

Still, he'd fought off sleep for as long as humanly possible, aware that the only thing that could keep the crippling images at bay was alcohol and that he hadn't had nearly enough of that. So Klaus had valiantly attempted to stay awake and only in the early morning hours had he succumbed to the much needed sleep.

To his utter surprise, memories of both Henrik's and Marcel's demises had chosen to grant him a reprieve. What he received in their stead was a much worse fabrication of his dark mind. He shuddered only remembering it.

Caroline's death.

So vivid, so authentic and, true to his wretched life, he'd been powerless to stop it.

Klaus couldn't help but wonder if this wasn't a sign from whatever deity existed above that he should go before the surgeon suffered any more at his hands.

Yet he was too selfish to walk away right then and there. His treacherous heart swelled at being this close to her, waking feelings that had been dormant ever since the true face of his family had led to countless deaths among those he loved.

"Klaus?" Caroline pulled him back to reality as she ran her hand over his chest.

"I'm fine," he lied and faked a minute smile to cement it. He wasn't prepared for any discussion on the topic of this precise nightmare and he wasn't sure he ever would be. Besides, he didn't want to ruin whatever little time they had.

Of course the woman didn't believe him for a moment, but she didn't want another heated discussion between them. If he wanted his nightmares to remain private, she would grant him that. Also, there was something she'd been meaning to tell him ever since they'd left Cirque du Soleil and hadn't gotten the chance to.

"I didn't really mean it, you know?" upon his confused expression she explained. "What I said about Henrik and Marcel. I was angry and…"

"And you were probably right," he cut her off. "They wouldn't want me to live my life like this, but until a few days ago I didn't really think I had another choice."

 _I'm still not sure,_ he refrained from adding.

"You do," she smiled and placed another kiss on his lips. Both felt the bout of electricity coursing through their veins, making their blood boil with desire and unspoken, ignited feelings.

Yet Klaus couldn't allow it to go any further. Not without being entirely honest. It would feel like deceiving Caroline if he did and there was nothing he wanted less on this world than to hurt her.

"We should go back to the hotel."

Klaus pulled back and helped Caroline stand up, wincing slightly at his back's protests at having spent an entire night on the hard, cold sand. However, it had been worth this and more.

Leading the way back to the car he'd rented, the man couldn't help constantly looking over his shoulder, half expecting to see one of his siblings waiting for him or, worse, Mikael himself.

There was no one.

As soon as they got into the car, Caroline snuggled into the passenger seat, turning on the heat. No sooner had they exited the City of Angels than she'd already fallen asleep again.

Risking another look at her, Klaus marveled once more at how such an innocent, outstanding woman could ever be with him.

 _She doesn't know everything,_ his inner voice reminded.

Yet, with every kiss they shared, the man could feel another piece from his walls fall, shattering into the ground. It was unavoidable. He was already in too deep regarding the woman. The entire ride back to Malibu, Klaus pondered the possibility of simply not telling her anything. Whisk her away to a private island and stay there forever.

He found that he couldn't.

A life based on a lie was not what he wanted to give her. No, he wanted to give her the world, show her places brimming with history, culture, music, art and that would only be possible if she knew and understood the risks being with him entailed and agreed anyway.

Hell, he wasn't sure he wanted her to.

But first, they had to get through the wedding.

"Caroline," he softly shook her shoulder in a bid to wake her up. "We've arrived."

Groggy, green orbs turned to look at him, the corners of her mouth lifting upon finding him. Eliciting such a reaction from her made his heart flutter. Clearing his throat and some of the feelings he was sure showed into his gaze, Klaus walked around the car and opened the door for her.

"So you can be a gentleman when you want to, after all," she lightly teased and without even considering it beforehand, clasped their fingers together leading him back to the hotel. They stopped at the reception, ordered some breakfast to their room and headed up.

While they both took turns showering, getting rid of the pesky granules of sand embedded all over their bodies, the food arrived and Caroline instructed the bellboy to take it to the balcony, offering him a generous tip for having taken the time to even set up the table.

Once Klaus was done, he joined her on the terrace; both enjoying their tasty, hefty breakfast, Caroline unapologetically devouring his pancakes as well.

Just like Henrik used to.

A pang of sadness hit him at the memory of his little brother. The brother who'd refused to abandon him and who had, in return, lost his life at such a young age. Nothing anyone could say would ever convince Klaus that it wouldn't have been better for him to perish instead.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Caroline drew his attention. "I sort of made a promise to return to the beach this morning and I was wondering if you'd like to come with me?"

"A promise?"

"Yeah, to my new friend, Laura," the woman sheepishly smiled.

As it was usually the case, Klaus acquiesced to her demand and by 10 o'clock they were both on the beach. People were just starting to show, all eager to make the most of another warm, sunny summer day. Caroline quickly found a place for them to stay, close to the ocean and a bit more secluded as she was convinced Klaus wouldn't be keen on setting camp right in the centre of the beach.

Scrutinizing her surroundings in search of Laura, the blonde came up empty. Perhaps her poor parents needed a day off, she pondered and, after having taken off her sundress remaining in her crimson bikini, Caroline plopped down onto the sand for some tanning.

Klaus on the other hand, wasn't feeling at ease at all on the open beach. There were so many blind spots from where unwanted visitors could ambush them that the man found it impossible to relax. His focus was split between all of the entrances he couldn't cover and, to complicate matters even further, Caroline had deemed it appropriate to go sunbathing right under his nose.

Now, his eyes were constantly drawn to the oblivious woman who must have done some sort of witchcraft to have him this distracted. But he simply couldn't help himself. He was irredeemably drawn into her spell. Were he honest, he had been from the very beginning.

Losing her would break him, for sure.

Caroline Forbes had turned into his last vestige of light and allowing her to walk away- if she so decided –would tear him down more than any of Mikael's efforts and torture ever could.

"Caroline!" a high-pitched scream derailed his train of thoughts.

For a short second, his muscles coiled, preparing for a fight, until he landed eyes on the source of the sound. A young girl, probably around 5 or 6 years old was running in their direction, under the apologetic looks of her young parents who had their hands full with a baby. Bliss shone brightly in her almond irises at seeing the blonde surgeon.

So this was Caroline's new friend.

This woman never ceased amazing him. When she'd mentioned Laura, Klaus had pictured someone their own age who had happened upon her after their argument and offered some modicum of comfort. If not, perhaps someone older, wiser. Certainly not a child.

At the sound of her name, Caroline immediately stood up, welcoming the girl into her embrace.

"You came!" Laura excitedly squealed after they separated.

"Of course I did. I promised you I'd be here, didn't I?"

The warm look in the doctor's heart reminded him of how his mother and sister used to look at Henrik when he was a toddler. So open, sincere and full of affection. It sent a stab to his heart when he was reminded of his younger brother's brutal end. All because of him.

"And who are you?"

Laura had addressed him this time, eyes narrowed at the stranger gawking at them, taking both adults by surprise.

It had been so long since he'd been around a child that he'd forgotten how to behave around one. Almost panicked at scaring the girl away and also not sure of what answer should be given, Klaus turned to Caroline for help.

"He's Klaus Mikaelson," she sucked in a deep breath." My boyfriend."

For the first time since they'd met, that statement reflected the truth. At least from her point of view. Judging by Klaus's slight nod, he agreed with her definition.

However, Laura didn't appear satisfied. She continued to seriously stare at Klaus until she spoke again. "Do you love Caroline?"

Two widened pairs of eyes focused on Laura who appeared to not have realized the significance of her question. Children often tended to have such a simple vision of the world around them. For them only love and hatred existed. There were no shades of grey. And Klaus was everything but simply black and white. He was the entire spectrum of colors in between.

"I," he swallowed, pausing and risking a glance at Caroline who did not appear willing to help him out. It was not an easy question. Not because he doubted his feelings but because expressing them implied so much more. "I…" he tried again, but it had been so long since he'd confessed his love for somebody and it was even harder to do when he felt that by doing it he could be potentially harming them.

Caroline was enjoying watching Klaus squirm. Who would have imagined that a 6 year old possessed that skill? A part of her was wishing that he would profess his love right then and there, but she wasn't irrational and understood that saying those words was awfully hard for someone as broken as Klaus Mikaelson.

Besides, she wanted his confession to be spontaneous not forcefully pulled out. If it ever came, that is.

"Laura, let's give Klaus a moment to breathe," she finally intervened. "How about we play some volleyball?"

Attempting to deflect from the question would have worked on most kids, but not Laura. She remained focused on Klaus. "You'd better not hurt my friend."

With that final warning, she turned towards a very amused Caroline- not every day one saw a child threaten Klaus -, agreeing to the game.

 _There's nothing in the world I want less, kid_ , Klaus added in his head, but fearing that it was already too late for that.

For the next hour or so Klaus fascinatingly contemplated the two happily playing different sorts of games, running around, falling in the sand only to get back up and start all over again. Seeing the utmost care she had for the youngster and her unrelenting complacency to Laura's every wish demonstrated the pure goodness of Caroline's soul.

The goodness that he shouldn't be soiling by staying in her presence.

Yet, he couldn't leave.

"Come in the water with us," Caroline appeared out of nowhere, completely soaked, Laura hot on her trail. He was preparing to say no when a cold, wet hand grabbed his fingers and started trying to pull him up. An eyebrow rose in disbelief at the woman who genuinely thought her force was enough to move him.

"Come on," she tried again. "The water's amazing and it helps with this awful heat," with that she pointedly gazed at his t-shirt which was all sweaty and continued attempting to get him to stand up.

A roll of his eyes and an amused smirk later, Klaus was finally getting up. When he realized something. Taking off his shirt would reveal another part of his past he wanted kept quiet. Moreover, it might even scare Laura away and prompt her parents to take her away from the weird stranger's proximity.

"Please, Klaus," the hopeful voice of Laura is what finally convinced him. She'd spoken just like Henrik usually did and he never could deny him anything.

With hesitant movements, the garment came off, leaving him exposed under the scrutiny of the two.

At first, Caroline noticed a tattoo on his shoulder: a flock of birds that extended all the way to his back. They were flying upwards in what Caroline interpreted as a bid for freedom. Only then did the woman notice the interruption in the design, the black ink united unintelligibly. She'd seen tattoos look like this before. In the hospital.

Understanding finally dawned on her. Scar tissue marred the skin, a bullet wound she would guess. Gulping before continuing to inspect his body, Caroline found a few shallow scars around his abdomen and a deeper one that ran all across his stomach. Stab wounds. Like someone had tried disemboweling him. Even more, cigarette burns were peppered all over his torso.

This was why he had seemed so reluctant to undress. Injuries that stood proof to his horrible past. The past that she was less and less keen on knowing with every passing second. Were all these wounds acquired in war? A pesky voice inside her head screamed that it was unlikely at best.

Her heart clenched at seeing him turn his head away from her as if ashamed.

"It's a gruesome sight, I know."

Tears prickled her eyes at the self-loathing obvious in his words. Did he think she would reject him only because of a few scars? Had he truly not learned Caroline Forbes's true nature? In that instant, there was nothing more she wanted than to reassure him, but her voice betrayed her, the lump in her throat too big to swallow. Someone else's did not though.

"Do they hurt?" Laura approached Klaus until she was right in front of him.

Stunned, Klaus turned to look at the young girl. She showed no sign of fear or revulsion. Only concern. Shaken to the core, the man dropped down to his knees, so he was eye level with the girl.

"Not at all," he reassured. "They look way worse than they actually were."

At that Caroline nearly lost it. Partially because, as a doctor, she knew that was not the case. With that kind of stomach wound, Klaus was lucky to even be alive. Mostly, though, it was because this self-proclaimed 'bad' person, the 'monster' was lying to reassure a girl he'd just met hours ago.

This just proved to her that she was right. He really was better than anyone, even himself, gave him credit for.

"It's beautiful," the girl whispered, gazing at the tattoo. "I've always loved birds."

"Me too, Laura, me too. They are the freest of creatures, able to simply extend their wings and fly away wherever they wish. Yet they are so fragile, breakable and every breath they draw is a battle won," he risked a glance at Caroline who was choking on the tears she was fighting. "I have this to remind myself to keep fighting. A symbol of what my younger brother taught me."

 _Crack._

There went one of his last pieces of armor.

Clearing his throat, wishing nothing more than for this display of vulnerability to end, he stood up.

"Now, shall we go into the damned water?"

Giddily jumping up at the suggestion, Laura grabbed Klaus's hand and started tugging him along, Caroline momentarily forgotten. The blonde did not miss how Klaus slightly tightened at the unexpected touch, but she also saw him fight to relax and allow the girl to do as she pleased.

Thankful for the seconds she had to compose herself, the woman couldn't help noticing a few blemishes on his back as well. Burns. In her line of work, she'd seen countless scars and wounds, but none of them had cut her at deeply as Klaus's. Mostly because those had been made in order to save the patient's life.

Klaus's served as a constant reminder of the horrors he'd lived. The ones that she wasn't prepared to hear yet.

Wiping away a stray tear, Caroline started her trek to the emerald water, noticing that some waves had started to agitate the water. In utter synch with her state of mind. Completely shaken. The perfect remedy was proven to be the sound of Laura's happy laughter as Klaus started to teach her how to swim.

Strong hands supported the girl, but he let her do most of the work. He seemed so confident that Caroline could have sworn he'd done this before.

 _Henrik._

Her mind came up with the answer on its own.

It was like two people resided in Klaus at the same time. There was the dangerous one who kept everyone at bay, from whom a look was enough to leave you trembling. And hidden behind that rough façade was this man she'd gotten to see recently. The one who would teach her to ride a horse, take her to Cirque du Soleil to fulfill her dream and even teach a young girl to swim.

All this left her wondering what had broken him so much and yet she shuddered to even think about the cause of the old injuries.

 _Maybe ignorance really is bliss._

"Caroline, look, Klaus taught me how to swim!"

Laura exclaimed proudly upon setting eyes on her and tried to move away from the man to prove her newly obtained skill. Unfortunately, at that exact moment, a bigger wave felt the shore calling and it completely covered the young girl.

Both panicked adults jumped at the same time, reaching for Laura. Their hands entwined around her, clutching tightly and pulling her back to the surface. Coughing, the girl didn't seem really fazed by the mishap, wrapping her tiny fingers around the man's neck.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, love," his voice was tense although he tried to mask it as he continued to hold onto her. "I've still got an awful lot to teach you."

Seeing Laura pout at the very subtle scold, Caroline added, "I'd listen to him. He's the best teacher one could ask for. Trust me, I know."

Immediately, their gazes gravitated towards the other, delivering what words failed to.

Acceptance.

Understanding.

Gratitude.

And last but definitely not least: love.

It left both shaken to the core, so they simply chose to focus on Laura. And so they did for the next few hours spent on the beach. Klaus literally forgot about everything plaguing his mind and let go. He hadn't felt this free since Henrik had been alive and he hadn't known all the sordid details he knew now. So he relished the precious moments until Laura's parents called her out and told her to say goodbye.

"We'll be seeing you tomorrow?" Caroline asked from within the confines of the girl's tight hug. The first sign of sadness crossed Laura's face.

"We're going home tomorrow."

Both Caroline and Klaus felt quite dejected that this day would not have a repeat and the woman showed it by wrapping her into another embrace. Even if they'd only met for two days, there had been an instant connection with the girl.

"Goodbye, Laura," Klaus remained stoic as ever, but upon closer inspection one could see the slight shadow of sorrow at seeing her go. She was, after all, one of the few people to easily accept him.

Shockingly, the child walked up to him and declared," I know you love Caroline and she does too. A love just like that in the stories my mom reads me and you'll be together forever."

That knocked the air out of their lungs. Here she was, a 6 year old, saying everything neither one dared. There was only one thing wrong with her comparisons, Klaus noted but chose not to speak up. Fairytales had a happy ending and there was no way in hell that his story could ever get one of those. He wasn't worthy of it and the villains were too many and powerful.

One final wave and the little girl finally took off, leaving awkward silence between the two. Both cleared their throats at the same time, jumping when their eyes met. Yet neither followed up with actual words.

After all, what was there to say after that declaration? Feeble words were not enough. Neither affirmed the loaded words, but what mattered more was that neither hurried to correct them either.

"So," Caroline laughed nervously bidding to break the ice. "Shall we go back?"

Klaus nodded, anxiousness at being in such an open space having returned with Laura's departure. What was more, he did not want to confront the statement previously made. Mostly because he wasn't sure he had it in him to keep pretending and lie.

Yet the entire walk to the hotel their hands were clasped together. If that wasn't confirmation enough, Klaus wasn't sure he would ever be capable of more.

Time slipped away, an exhausted Caroline falling asleep following her relaxing bath. A vigil Klaus remained by her side, watching her, contemplating his options and wishing nothing more than to be able to simply be with her.

But he couldn't. He was effectively trapped with no visible way out. Instead of continuing to dwell on his impossible situation, Klaus grabbed a blank piece of paper and a pencil, choosing to drown himself in art again. Similarly to yesterday, the only thing that seemed to inspire him other than death and tragedy was the doctor. And he gave freedom to his hand which skillfully moved to reproduce the breathtaking woman next to him, effectively losing track of time.

"How long have you been watching me?" an amused, still groggy voice reached him. Of course, Caroline had woken up and was now gazing at him through sleep-filled eyes. "And what's that?" she pointed at the sketch. "Is it another drawing?"

Her face literally lit up when he confirmed her suspicions and reluctantly handed it to her.

For the second time these days, air was knocked out of Caroline's lungs. She'd been his muse again. And just like before, it was a perfect representation of herself, identical to one a famous painter would do.

"It's beautiful," was all she could muster, voice heavy with emotion. "Can I keep it?"

In a way, the man wanted to deny her. Wanted to preserve the scrap of paper- to remind him of her when she was gone. But he couldn't say no, so he accepted. Besides, he was sure he could paint her from memory just as well, her every feature, every wrinkle etched into his brain irrevocably.

"You've got real talent, Klaus," she bit her lip before choosing to follow the compliment with a more personal question. "You said you used to draw before. Have you ever considered doing it professionally?"

This time it took less for him to choose to respond. Like she was getting closer and closer to breaking him out of his shell with every attempt, be it a success or failure.

"I did, when I was a teenager. But my parents, especially my father, did not deem it a career worthy of the Mikaelson name. They thought it would be an embarrassment."

The way his eyes tightened and his voice hardened at the mention of his father did not go unnoticed.

"And what did he deem a worthy career?"

This was it.

The moment of truth.

The perfect opportunity to be sincere.

Yet he hesitated and she caught on.

"You know what? Don't tell me. I don't want it to ruin my night."

Another free pass was handed to him on a silver platter. Just like last time, Klaus wasn't sure he should accept it for fear it might all blow in his face. The devil might be weaving another intricate web for him to fall in.

In the end, his mouth simply refused to cooperate.

"Instead, how about we go out for dinner? I saw the hotel has a wonderful restaurant by the beach and I'm dying to check it out."

"Sure," his voice shook slightly under the overwhelming weight of secrets and lies he continued to say.

"Thank you," she planted another swift kiss on his lips before leaving to get ready.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, Klaus had been ready for over thirty minutes, opting to simply chug a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt on, not in the mood to mind his appearance at all. Not that he ever was.

Caroline, on the other hand, seemed to veer in the opposite direction, emerging in a skin-tight, dark green, lace dress that hugged her every curve, while leaving half of her back exposed. The lack of cleavage gave it a classy look that was accented by the elegant pair of black stilettoes and gold emerald bracelet she'd chosen.

"You look stunning," he complimented before he could catch himself.

Heat rose to her cheeks at hearing him and all she could muster was a weak "Thank you!"

Having her flustered, looking at him expectantly, a rosy hue taking over her porcelain skin, Klaus decided to throw caution to the wind. He might never get a chance like this in his life.

Within two strides he was in front of her, so close that he could feel her breath on him, smell her delicate, sweet perfume. It was too much. He couldn't keep fighting. He didn't even want to.

So he kissed her right then and there.

Only this time, he poured every single emotion he'd kept bottled up inside him. Passionately his hands curled into her hair, pulling her even closer, their bodies united as one, both melting into the fiery kiss. Neither could think straight anymore, desire clouding their every action, fingers desperately welding together. Caroline could feel his wild heartbeat and was sure that he could feel how her own fought to break out of its cage.

They were in perfect synch.

Like neither had ever been with somebody else.

In that moment, nothing- secrets, tragedies, enemies-mattered anymore. It was only Caroline and Klaus. Together. United by unspoken feelings and all-too revealing actions.

"I'm not that sure I'm hungry anymore," Caroline whispered pulling away no more than an inch. "For food, that is."

A dark look broke out in his mercury orbs, showcasing the struggle deep within because there was nothing more he wanted than to give in, throw her to the bed and satiate both of their desires. Yet he couldn't. Not to Caroline. He couldn't allow her to go that far with a monster like him.

"Well, I'm starving," he half lied. It was true, just not for food, surely that showed in his lustful gaze.

Disappointment went away as quickly as it appeared, the woman quickly recovering. "Then, let's remedy that, shall we?"

Holding him by the elbow, Caroline allowed to be led to the restaurant, unaware of some of the looks they attracted. Both were happier than either thought it would be possible again. In that moment, holding each other tightly, laughing and joking like any free couple did.

True to both of their lucks, fate decided to ruin everything for them again.

The restaurant was brimming with people, not an empty table in sight. "I guess we'll have to go back to the room, after all," Caroline leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Caroline? Klaus?"

A disbelieving voice they both knew reached them. Immediately they separated, as burned, recognizing the person before turning. One of the last beings either wished to meet this early. Besides, wasn't he supposed to arrive tomorrow?

"Stefan," Caroline was the first to greet, the man holding her tightening his grip on her protectively. A strawberry blonde woman came to join Stefan, her smile fake as she also held onto his hand tightly. "Valerie," Caroline smiled just as unnaturally.

"We were just going to find another restaurant," Klaus declared not bothering with any pleasantries. Not like he would mean them.

"We have a table of four, you could stay with us," Valerie offered, clearly not meaning it, taking all other participants of the discussion by surprise. Judging by her smug smile, she would relish in their refusal. It would be like accepting defeat, on Caroline's part.

"Sure, that would be great," Caroline answered before consulting with Klaus.

The man inhaled deeply, pursed his lips and confirmed with a shake of the head. Closing his eyes, he tried to prepare to spend a few hours with Stefan, sharing a meal and not jump across the table and punch him in the face.

For Caroline. He would do it for Caroline's sake. Only for her.

So he took a seat across Stefan, next to Caroline, until the waiter came for their order, awkward silence extending before them. Having not even read the menu, both ordered the first thing their eyes fell on.

"Oh, now I remembered," a happy Valerie decided to cut in. "You couldn't be reached so we didn't get a chance to tell you. We've moved the wedding up three days due to the weather playing tricks on us. Everyone's either on their way or already here and the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow evening."

It was like she was rubbing everything in Caroline's face. Dangling before her nose that she was enjoying what should have been hers. Only it wasn't affecting her to see them as a couple. The only thing that burned was their betrayal and how they were trying to sweep it under the rug.

"We'll be there," her false politeness was reaching an end while the woman's incessant ramble about flower arrangements, wedding dresses and rings didn't seem to.

"I chose red roses, because there's nothing more romantic than that, right?" Valerie persevered. "Stefan told me that you'd gone with peonies and irises. It honestly surprised me that you of all would go for such common flowers."

 _Like roses are incredibly original,_ Caroline wanted to bite back, but reined it in for fear of causing a scene.

"They're my favourite flowers," the surgeon responded instead.

"Actually," Klaus intervened. "Roses are the most common flower brides use all over the world. Red ones especially."

Caroline choked on her laugh at Valerie's dejected, miserable look after having had a taste of Klaus. She quickly recovered though, flashing Caroline her wedding ring.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Knowing that this all was a bid to get her riled up, Caroline lifted the corners of her mouth and nodded even though she felt nothing of the sorts. It was an ordinary gold ring with a big diamond on top.

"I picked it out myself," Valerie proudly said. "Nothing like that small, boring ring you had, Caroline. I had to tell Stefan to take it back, get a refund from the horrendous jewelry."

And that was the final straw. Enough was enough. Caroline Forbes could only take so much from such a low human being.

"I agree," the blonde got out though rasped teeth. "Yours fits your personality so much better. Struggling to stand out yet always fading in the background."

Now it was Klaus's turn to laugh mutely, as Stefan watched with wide eyes the exchange. This was heading downhill fast and if he intervened it would only make it worse. Besides, he couldn't get the image of Caroline kissing Klaus passionately, entirely unaware anyone was looking at them. It had cemented their relationship.

Weirdly, his heart constricted at the thought of Caroline being with such a dangerous man. Moreover, feelings were being stirred up at seeing her so close to him again, but so far out of his reach.

"Speak about background, we chose for our wedding dance the same song that was playing when you walked in on us," Valerie hit back shaking's the other woman's calm foundation. "It was our liberation as a couple, after all. Hiding from you to not hurt your feeling was quite tiring, you know?"

"I imagine how tedious it must have been," angry tears prickled her irises. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom."

Caroline stood up swiftly. Still, Klaus managed to catch her eye, receiving a tight, reassuring smile in return, but it didn't fool him. The words must have hurt her however she tried to hide it. The subtle touch on his shoulder stopped him from whisking her away, back to their room to ease her sorrow.

Left alone, Klaus gulped half a glass of wine to keep from biting Valerie's head off. "If I were you, I would learn to shut up. Trust me; I'm one of the last people you want to anger. Ask your fiancée if you don't believe me," he turned only to find Stefan gone. A nasty suspicion made way into his head, "Where is he, by the way."

"He said something about making a phone call," she nonchalantly replied although he didn't miss her hand shaking when grabbing the fork.

 _He better not be where I think he is. Otherwise, he might draw out the Klaus Mikaelson he criticizes so._

Five minutes. He would allow five minutes before going after the two missing dinner companions.

Little did he know that it was more than enough to ruin everything he had.

* * *

Cold water had helped cool her down after Valerie's insensitive and rude comments. Had she stayed, Caroline was sure that all hell would have broken loose, her thin patience already stretched to the limit.

Prepared to face the music again, Caroline exited the bathroom only to bump into a slender, tall figure. And that fragrance. It was entirely too familiar.

"What are you doing here, Stefan?"

Dragging her out of the light, near the corner where darkness provided some cover against curious looks he deadpanned," We have to talk, Caroline."

There was nothing she wanted less, but energy was seeping from her body and all she wanted was to get this over with. "Nothing you have to say will change how things are."

"Maybe this will," with that he grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her tight against him and smashing his lips against her.

It was a forceful kiss, nothing like the one she'd shared merely an hour ago with Klaus. It didn't leave butterflies in its wake. All it did was twist her insides, make her nauseous at having such a personal action imposed on her.

"Let go of me!" she screamed after pushing with all of her might to get him off her. In the end he did listen and took a small step back. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're getting married in a few days? Or is this your new thing? Kiss others behind your fiancée's back at every chance you get?"

"Of course not! It's just that I'm not that sure. I might have made a mistake."

Had this not been tragic, Caroline would have burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. A month ago, she would have given anything to hear these words, but now they repulsed her.

"You should have thought of that before you cheated on me for God knows how long."

"Come on, Caroline. I think I still love you and it's clear that you continue to have feelings for me."

The audacity of the man was never ending apparently. "It's clear, huh? Tell me, what in the world made you think that?" He lowered his eyes, for the first time in this discussion realizing that he might be barking at the wrong tree. "I'm with Klaus now and I love him, not you. Please, respect that like I respect that you're with Valerie."

"You love him?" he incredulously repeated, emphasizing the one part of her small speech that had surprised her too.

It had been so easy to admit it to Stefan, the words had tumbled out of her mouth, with no filter. They were true, undoubtedly.

"I do," she fiery stated only to be met with a nervous laugh.

"You know nothing about him, Caroline."

"I know enough to realize that he's a better man than you ever were. Your past together, he tried to tell me all about it. Be honest, like you never were with me, but I didn't allow it. Want to know why? Because I trust him and I don't need to know anything else. I love him and that's enough."

After that, Caroline tried to walk past a stunned, speechless Stefan and had almost succeeded when his next words stopped her in her tracks, prompting her to turn back and listen to whatever he had to say.

"He's a murderer, Caroline. The man you so ardently defend, this 'better' man is a coldblooded murderer."

At that, her world came crashing down.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much to every single one of the people who took the time to leave a review/ follow/ favourite. It means the world to me that you are still invested in this story. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter as well and I promise that in the next one most of your questions about Klaus's past will be answered. If you have the time, please let me know what you thought of this update as well.**


	14. Chapter 14

_8 Years Ago_

Sunlight slowly creeping through the slightly-drawn curtains announced the beginning of yet another day. What might seem like reason to celebrate for most, in the Mikaelson household, especially for Klaus Mikaelson, was more of a torment.

The shroud of darkness that accompanied nightfall was the one thing he looked forward to all day. After all, it was the only time when he got a reprieve from his father. One of the few persons who were supposed to love him unconditionally had always made him feel the opposite. Always searching for his mistakes, always punishing him even when the fault was not his, ever since he'd been a small child searching for nothing but approval and love.

They had never come. The situation had never gotten any better despite his constant efforts to please and be good. All so that he could receive even a modicum of the affection the man bestowed upon his other children. Sure, his mother and siblings were there for him offering love and support, but his heart still felt the black void a father should fill.

As of late, things had gone from bad to worse. All because Klaus had refused to be a part of his father's business. Finn, Elijah and Kol had joined Mikael, being groomed for it ever since an outstandingly young age. For a long time, Klaus had wished to be acknowledged by his parent and wanted nothing more than to also be a part of it.

Of course, that had never happened.

Forever growing, a burning pit of disappointment and confusion was his only companion throughout adolescence.

Still, the advantage of not being recruited by his father allowed him the opportunity to observe the effects it bore on his siblings. While Finn seemed just as cold and heartless as Mikael, nothing changing in him, his other brothers were never quite the same as before.

Elijah tried to cover it up, hiding whatever weighed down on his mind behind a series of fake smiles when in his, Rebekah's or Henrik's presence, but shadows danced in his dark caramel irises, the laughs never reaching them. Kol, though, on him it was much clearer. The mischievous smile was all but gone, he'd crawled into a shell, never joking with them again, always serious and aloof, his old self buried beneath whatever demons were being kept from Klaus.

Slowly, the resent of not being considered good enough to join his father had morphed into content at not being a part of whatever was slowly destroying his siblings. Moreover, his best friends Stefan, Lucien and Marcel were a part of his father's business, but none of them told Klaus the honest truth about what was really going on behind his back.

No, that pleasure was bestowed on Mikael himself who had, a few months ago, come and asked him to join him in his despicable endeavors. To the elder man's bewilderment, the answer he'd been given was a resolute "No."

Mikael hadn't asked twice, thrown him a look of pure hatred- like none before- and stormed out of the room.

That night, with the pitch black sky as his accomplice, Mikael showed an ounce of his true self, the one that had seldom come out prior to that.

His mother's anguished cries echoed all the way to his room, standing testament to his father's vile character.

Klaus knew that it was his fault and it tore at his heart to be responsible for his mother's suffering. There was nothing more he wanted than to march in that room and take his father's wrath in her stead.

Yet he did nothing, aware that his involvement could never end well for anyone and would only increase his father's ire.

After that fateful night, in which he'd stood up to him for the first time, Mikael grew even colder towards him and no doubt lingered in the young Mikaelson that loathing was all that was left for him. Venomous words were spat at him, only when the need arose, the two not even exchanging routine greetings. Like they were invisible to the other.

That coupled with Esther's more frequent cries of pain during nights when she'd tried to intervene on his behalf and soften Mikael's attitude made him yearn to leave the house. Go away and carve a different life for himself. A better one.

His two younger siblings were all that was keeping him there. The only thing that made him complacent to this wretched life. Klaus stayed to ensure that the burning embers in their orbs, their desire to take on the world, to do good for the people living on this Earth was not extinguished by his father.

Today, precisely was one of the days which made staying worth it.

Henrik's 16th birthday. An occasion his brother always celebrated. Not one birthday had passed by in which Klaus hadn't gone above and beyond to fulfill whatever Henrik's heart pined for. Today, he'd taken all of the money Mikael had ever given him and bought a horse for his brother.

Ever since Klaus had taught him to ride, Henrik had badgered his dad to get him one, only to be shaken off and told that more important occupations would be made known to him soon enough. Klaus shuddered at only thinking about that, but quickly recovered upon contemplating his brother's face when he saw the surprise Klaus had for him. Finally something to eagerly anticipate, something good.

Little did he know that today would be the catalyst to his own ruin.

* * *

Gifts piled up. Tables bursting with every possible kind of food one could crave. A decadent chocolate cake and the most expensive champagne money could buy.

Still, nothing could infuse real happiness into some of the Mikaelson family members, even though both Kol and Elijah tried their best to fake it. Mikael's presence weighed heavily on everyone but Rebekah and Henrik- the innocent ones.

"Let's open the presents!" the birthday boy exclaimed after having finished his hefty slice of cake.

The wish was immediately respected by everyone and Klaus couldn't help marveling at the genuine happiness radiating from his brother's face upon receiving all he'd desired and more. The youngster's eyebrows furrowed upon reaching the end of the perfectly-wrapped boxes and realizing he was short two.

Immediately, brown orbs turned to Klaus. "You'll have to accompany me outside to see what I got you," the man swiftly responded.

Giddiness returned at the prospect of receiving something else and Henrik practically skipped all the way to the door, oblivious to the glares his father was exchanging with his older brother.

On cue, one of the men in the family's service brought out an entirely white, pureblood stallion that, as if sensing the animosity Mikael directed his way, neighed loudly.

"This is for me?" Henrik mumbled in disbelief, getting a nod for an answer. Wide eyes darted between the gift and the person who'd given it. "This is the best present I have received! Thank you so much, brother," the boy jumped to hug Klaus.

"His name is Domino," Klaus couldn't help smirking at his father's reaction, but also felt his heart jump at having been the reason for this much joy gracing Henrik's angelic features. "I know how much you wanted one. All that money did serve for something, after all," he couldn't help the stinging tone addressed to his dad. "Go ahead, take him for a ride."

Henrik had almost gotten up in the saddle when a stern voice spoke. "There are more important things than that right now."

"But father, I want to go out with Domino!"

"Not right now," Mikael's voice was laced with barely contained contempt. "You have yet to get your gift from me."

Klaus did not miss his mother's muscles tightening at the words. "Please don't. He's too young," Esther pleaded. One pointed look from her husband was enough to quiet her down, but the damage had already been done. All present save from the one directly affected by it knew where this was headed. No one wanted that fate to befall the most candid person in that house, but nobody said anything to stop it.

Knowing that protesting would not get him anywhere, Henrik had started to comply, slowly walking towards the family's patriarch.

Like hell would Klaus stand by and allow Henrik to be dragged into whatever Mikael disguised as legit business. He would not suffer the same as Elijah and Kol. Not if Klaus could prevent it. Unfortunately, there was only one way he could think of that would avoid such atrocity. It required selling his soul to the devil.

One more glance at his sibling, at his downcast noble, kind eyes made it clear that it was worth it.

"Father, can I have a word with you?" all gasped at the phrase spoken, turning towards Klaus, who had taken a few steps, protectively positioning himself between Mikael and Henrik.

"Not right now, Niklaus."

Coming from Mikael, that would have been enough to make anyone back off, get out of the way, all the while quivering in fear, most likely. But not Klaus. The purpose guiding him was too important.

"I promise, I'll make it worth your precious time," Klaus spat in the exact tone, earning a collective, disbelieving murmur. Few dared challenge Mikael and until now nobody in the Mikaelson family had accomplished the elusive feat.

Drawing a deep breath to calm himself, not lose composure in front of the ones still oblivious to his real self, Mikael responded, "Very well, follow me." After that order, he did not linger any longer, marching into his office with Klaus hot on his trail. Waiting for the door to close, Mikael addressed his son. "Alright, let's hear what you have to say, Niklaus. Be quick. I have more important things to do than waste time with you."

Now it was Klaus's turn to inhale and bite back an angry remark, cutting straight to the point. "You are not dragging Henrik into the dark business you run."

Chuckling sinisterly, Mikael drew closer to his son. "And how do you plan on stopping me?"

This was it. This was the moment Klaus had been dreading. He knew it was the only way to avert the snuffing of Henrik's light, but it still felt like he was betraying everything he'd stood for until now. The path he was choosing would undoubtedly lead to his slow destruction. He'd seen it happen with his brothers.

 _Better me than Henrik,_ was how he eventually got the words to form.

"I'll take his place. I'll join you in his stead."

"And what makes you think I'd want that, you foolish boy?" Mikael downright laughed at his proposal. "The only reason I asked you in the first place was because your mother insisted I treat you the same as the others."

"I'm well aware you've always hated me, father," Klaus kept his voice to a minimum level, masking some of the hurt he still felt at being the marginalized son, the outcast for reasons still eluding him. "But I also know that deep down you are aware that Henrik could never be like Finn or even Elijah and Kol. His heart is too pure for that. Never would he be able to commit whatever monstrosities you do."

That must have hit a nerve because Mikael narrowed his eyes angrily. "And you could? The son that has always disappointed me, the one who refused to enter the family business precisely because he was too afraid to soil his soul."

"You know perfectly well that I could, if I wanted to. " Klaus sighed before uttering what he was sure would seal his fate. "If you leave Henrik alone, I'll do whatever you want me to. I won't question, I'll just obey regardless of what you ask so long as Henrik stays out of it."

"Whatever I say?" Mikael smirked at the nod he received, pondering just for show. "Very well, Niklaus, you have yourself a deal. Tomorrow we'll talk the details over. Now go, I want to be alone."

With that, Klaus had effectively gone down a road he'd regret immensely. Unfortunately, there was no turning back.

Upon exiting the office, everybody was waiting with bated breath, right where they'd been left. Frozen in place, muscles tense as if waiting for all hell to break lose. Only an unperturbed Henrik who had been enjoying Domino, galloped his way when he saw Klaus emerge.

"Does father wish to see me?"

"No, Henrik, not anymore," everybody else was left with their mouths gaping in astonishment. "Continue your celebration. I might join you later."

That was enough to send Henrik back the way he came. Afterwards, all remaining people gathered around him, wide eyes staring at the only person who'd been able to change Mikael's mind until then.

"What did you do, brother?" Elijah asked worriedly, voicing what they were all wondering.

"What I had to," a tight smile struggled to appear, but it was more of a grimace. He turned to face Esther. "You don't have to worry anymore, Henrik will be left alone."

"Oh, son," his mother brokenly murmured.

"What's going on?" Rebekah innocently intervened. "Why is everybody so gloom? I don't get it. What has Nik done that has you all twisted?"

All turned to look at Klaus, not sure what to answer or what was even there to say. They all understood the gravity of what had transpired just minutes ago, but there was no way they could explain it to the blonde. They would protect her until Mikael chose to tell her the truth. Although the odds of that were quite slim because she was a woman and there was little she could do to benefit his organization, in Mikael's old-school views.

"Everything's fine," Klaus was the one who reassured in the end. "Don't worry about it. You know how father can get."

"Then why does mother look like she's about to cry?" the young woman continued her line of inquiry.

One pointed look from Klaus was enough to make Esther attempt to gather herself. "I promise you Bekah, there is nothing wrong," this time his try to smile was a tad more successful. "Now, I'll go to my room for a bit and rest. It has been a tiresome day, but you can resume the party here."

After that, ignoring pitiful looks thrown at him, Klaus retreated to his quarters, locked the door and only then did he collapse on the bed, head cradled between his hands. He'd sworn to obey Mikael in everything. He was now at the beck and call of the father who'd always hated him and only the thought of what he'd be made to do sent a shiver down his back.

The only consolation was that Henrik was safe and that made it all better.

It made it worth it. Or so he had believed.

* * *

Months went by and slowly Klaus grew accustomed to his father's so called business. A top criminal organization would have been a more accurate description. As he'd promised, not once did he refuse his assignment.

At first, as he trained to be a better man –in his father's view- which equaled being cold and ruthless, his missions were easy: go and collect some money from people who owed it, apply some punishment if they failed to deliver. Then, it escalated into conducting weapon trades and dealing with the primary competition through whatever way was fit (be it by beating them up or setting their supplies on fire). Stefan, Lucien and seldom Marcel were his partners during the easier, less violent missions.

Soon, he grew to be his father's best man. All because he never hesitated. He just complied, holding up his end of the bargain while his father held his. Yet, with every single day that went by in Mikael's service, another part of his heart died. It blackened, corrupted by the things he was forced to do.

Seeing Henrik happily applying to universities, looking to fulfill his dream of being a doctor was what made him push on, what kept him sane. His name was the only thing he needed to remember why he was fighting this war with his conscience in the first place. It reminded him that even though he was losing himself, Henrik was well on the way to finding a good, honorable way of life. Hopefully, somewhere far, far away from here.

His mother and siblings, save from Finn who couldn't care less, noticed his fire slowly being extinguished and they all tried their best to comfort him, make his little time home more enjoyable, but it was in vain. Most of the hours at home were spent in the confines of his room, refusing food except from the minimum necessary to survive. A prisoner of his own wretched deeds was what he was slowly growing to be.

Aside from Henrik, there was only one other good thing that had come out of it. In his wish to take out his unexplainable ire on Klaus, Mikael gave him more assignments than anybody else. Therefore, Elijah and Kol were needed less and less. Slowly light was seeping back into their eyes, the difference immensely noticeable.

If all that was required for them all to be happy was his pain, then so be it.

Demons were haunting him every time he blinked, the faces of the people he'd hurt vivid behind his orbits, mocking, taunting him, never granting reprieve. Not one had been forgotten, their features burned into his brain. Nights were reduced to him reading until his body couldn't take it anymore and even then, sleep refused to grace him for more than two or three hours, at best.

However, the true test hadn't come yet. It presented itself one rainy afternoon in which Mikael had unexpectedly called him to an abandoned warehouse they occasionally used. His gut screamed that something was wrong, but not once had he expected that in that day, all shreds of light still remaining within his heart would turn black.

Contrary to the usual, when only he and a few other of Mikael's men were present, the warehouse was packed with at least fifty people, all gathered in a circle around something. As he advanced, he noticed that it was not something, but rather someone.

A man he'd seen a couple of times was tied to a chair, blood leaking from his chafed lips, sweat glistening on his forehead, bruises blackening his almost closed eyes. He was panting, in obvious pain. Darting back and forth in the room, Klaus finally focused on the front row –the ones who'd gotten the best tickets for the show- Kol, Elijah and Finn stood there like emotionless statues. Right next to them were his friends, both Stefan and Lucien not appearing entirely too bothered by the gruesome display in front of them while Marcel looked positively pasty and sick.

In the centre, right next to the bleeding man was nobody but Mikael himself. Crimson stained his knuckles and white, expensive shirt. As soon as he caught sight of his son, the leader took a step in his direction.

"The guest of honor has arrived. Welcome, Niklaus!"

There was a hint of masked malice that made Klaus shudder in the man's apparent warm greeting.

"What's going on, father?" he willed his voice to be steady and strong as he advanced, stopping right in front of Mikael. "What has this man done to warrant this?"

His father's eyes narrowed and the younger man wondered if he'd by some mistake allowed pity to seep into his question. Hopefully he hadn't because that was viewed as a sign of weakness around here and was severely punishable.

"He," Mikael spat out," Has betrayed us. Talked to the police, cut out a deal with them, selling us out to save his own skin. Too bad he didn't take into consideration that I have contacts everywhere and no one double crosses me and lives to tell of it," just for show, he punched the man again, but Klaus was stuck on the last part of the sentence.

"You're going to kill him?" Klaus incredulously asked.

Before then, he'd hurt people, sold weapons, set houses and cars on fire, but never once had he ever come close to seeing someone get murdered. It was the one step into darkness he had refused to acknowledge his father had taken.

"No, my dear _son,_ " the last noun spoken with ridicule of sorts. " _You_ are the one who will end this man's misery."

With that, he effectively rendered Klaus speechless. He was in an impossible situation: either kill the man and with him doom his soul or he could refuse and allow Henrik to be pulled into this in his stead. Glancing at his brothers, it was obvious that they were as stunned as he was. Sure, Mikael had wanted his sons to follow in his footsteps, but until then he'd never asked them to assassinate someone. If one didn't count Finn, obviously. The deduction had been that in his weird, paternal way, he was protecting them,

Yet with Klaus, he seemed to have no problem in asking. Moreover, he seemed to be enjoying it. Immensely, judging by how giddily he handed over a gun. Klaus's trembling hands hovered in the air, not grabbing the weapon, hesitating as a battle raged in his mind.

"What's the matter, Niklaus? Can't you do what I'm asking of you? Is this the end of our deal?" Mikael all but smirked.

No doubt existed in Klaus's mind that should he refuse, Henrik would be dragged here as well, forced to watch Klaus's own torture for disobeying his father in addition to this man's murder. But could he really pull the trigger? Could he really murder a defenseless man in cold blood? Could he vanquish that part of his heart as well?

One thing was certain: if he did this, he was no better than Mikael.

"Father, stop this madness," Elijah gathered his courage to step in. "There are plenty of other people who can do this other than my brother."

"Elijah," Mikael's voice was laced with a deadly warning. "No one asked for your opinion and if you do not want to take your brother's place, you should step back and keep your mouth shut."

Genuinely contemplating if he should do just that and, as the older brother, protect Klaus until the very end, Elijah remained glued to the spot, lips opening and closing with words he did not dare say.

Clarity came to Klaus in that second. He could not allow Elijah to murder someone for him. Knowing his brother, the burden would be too much for him to carry. He would crumble under its weight. But he could shoulder it. He was strong enough to do it for his family. He had to be.

"Brother," strength returned to his voice. "Do as he says, I've got this." To add credibility to what he spoke, Klaus grabbed the gun and pointed it at the man who was begging for mercy.

There was no chance he would get it. Mikael wasn't familiar with such notions. Sensing the determination within his younger brother and aware that there was nothing he could do to stop this, but try to wrestle the weapon away which could end in tragedy, Elijah stepped back, sorrow filling him at the scene unfolding before his eyes.

Mere inches away Klaus was lost inside his own mind, the gun heavy in his hands. It had the weight of the good left inside him. Once he'd pulled the trigger, his heart would be completely corroded by Mikael's evilness. And he had no choice but to do it. Even if he'd gathered the courage to turn the weapon on Mikael, he'd be shot by one of the bodyguards before he could do any real damage.

Slowly, his vision blurred with each broken plea, heart breaking even more. His finger gently squeezed the trigger, before hesitating for the last time.

"I'm sorry," he whispered inaudibly before finally pressing down.

A loud noise echoed all over the warehouse, the silence making it louder, more deafening. One shot right between the eyes, like his fingers hadn't shaken at all. As if he'd been doing this his whole life and was a professional. Truthfully, all Klaus had wanted had been not to cause the man unnecessary pain and end his suffering with one shot.

"It's done," he threw the gun at Mikael's feet and began walking out of the warehouse, wishing for nothing else than to be alone. It was the only way he could quiet the debilitating screams of guilt. Bury them where they couldn't reach him.

"In a grand way too," Mikael actually had the audacity to clap. Like never before at any of Klaus's prior achievements. "I think I may have found the one thing you are good at, boy."

"And I think you may regret this in the end, Mikael," Klaus defiantly threw back at his father who had, in his mind, grown unworthy of the title, earning a few shocked gasps as he walked out of the room without looking back.

Fury at the audacity of the boy to threaten him quickly evaporated when he landed eyes on Klaus's handiwork. Who would have thought that he could actually be useful? Right then and there, Mikael decided that he'd found his new top hitman. Not only would the work be done spectacularly, but he could also see Klaus die a bit every time he pulled the trigger. Getting it over with and also entertaining him.

All to protect his siblings.

What a fool! If only he knew they weren't even related and that he was the product of his whore of a mother's adultery.

* * *

Following that fateful evening, Mikael stuck to his plan. All of the jobs involving tapping into one's violent nature were handed to his son on a silver platter. And all were accomplished perfectly.

A year and a half and Klaus Mikaelson had grown to be a feared and respected man. Not one person dared cross or disregard him. The fact that he retreated further and further into his shell only added fuel to that fire. He was downright unapproachable, instilling fear in all those around him. Although he never showed unwarranted malice, his actions spoke louder than words.

Even his family was reluctant to come to him, at least those who knew of his new occupation. Henrik and Rebekah were the only ones who still treated him the same, who still sought his company and who didn't treat him like a pariah or eyed him with pity.

For their sake, he tried to maintain appearances, to project that nothing had changed even though his soul could barely take the thought of waking up and starting a different day. Crippling horrors of what he'd be forced to do hounded his every waking second.

What was more, they seemed to be getting worse with every day. Now, Mikael was only sending him to genuinely hurt people and always ensured Finn, Lucien or Stefan went with him. They had to report that the job had been done. From friends, they'd morphed into his wardens.

Thankfully, he'd only been forced to pull the trigger twice since that night, during a shoot-out with a gang who'd refused to pay what they owed for a shipment of weapons.

But still, three people no longer breathed because of him. That was not counting the dozens whose lives he'd ruined or those the weapons he sold had killed.

They also weighed down on his conscience.

The only one truly not bothered by any of this was Finn who seemed to enjoy his torture.

Today, though, something was different. Mikael had called him and Finn into his office and threw a few photographs in their face. It was a man in his early thirties clad in a police uniform, radiant green eyes staring back at them.

"What is this, father?" Finn asked knowing that Klaus only spoke to the older man when absolutely needed.

Klaus had a sneaky suspicion that he knew where this was headed and immediately cursed himself for not being able to say no. Well, he'd made his own bed and now he had to sleep in it.

"This is the new thorn in my side," anger could be read in Mikael's voice. "He's recently been promoted to detective and has already put behind bars two of my best men while seizing a large quantity of weapons. Suffice it to say, my partners are not very happy and wish him taken care of or there will be consequences."

"You want us to kill him?" Finn didn't even bat an eyelash.

"I want Niklaus to do it. You are to assist him, should he need it."

 _Or, in other words, be his keeper and make sure the mark does not live to see another day_ , Klaus read between the lines.

"Can't you just bribe him, like you have so many others?" the youngest in the room couldn't refrain from asking.

The scathing looks he received from both men in the room would have been enough to senselessly scare off any lesser man, but Klaus wasn't affected in the slightest, staring them both down, expecting an answer.

"He's not up for sale, I've tried," Mikael eventually responded.

Not wanting to waste another second in the man's presence, Klaus grabbed the paper containing the man's address and went to leave the room. A threatening voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Niklaus, I want a clean job. No witnesses."

"Isn't it always?" he barked in the exact same tone.

Long ago he'd stopped fearing his father. All he did, all the obedience was not because he was scared, but because he wanted to keep his brother and sister alive and well, not tainted like he was.

Yet, something in the way Mikael had said those words had left him unsettled. Never before had that notion been emphasized like today. It was a bad omen. Klaus was sure of it.

To further cement his belief, Finn emerged minutes later, a knowing smirk plastered on his face. Clearly he had been made privy to something and had no interest in sharing it with Klaus.

"Anything you have to say, brother?" Klaus tried anyway, hoping that their blood relation would awaken any dormant feelings of remorse or care Finn had. If there were any.

"You'll see," he took off laughing, baffling his sibling even further.

When night started to fall, both men found themselves in front of the detective's house, Klaus readying his weapon, loading it and putting on a silencer. The last thing he wanted was a nosy neighbor to interrupt him. One body was already too much.

However, something continued to feel off. There were too many lights in the house. Why would a single man, a police officer nonetheless keep three different rooms illuminated? When confronted with this fact, Finn simply shrugged, murmuring something about how it will all make sense eventually.

Klaus didn't want 'eventually', he wanted right then and there, but knew all too well how pointless and counterproductive arguing with his stubborn brother would be.

"Let's do this," he beckoned Finn once darkness had completely enveloped the street. Goose bumps covered his skin for unknown reasons. Another sign that he was missing something. Something important. It was like the Universe or some God, if there was any above- Klaus had long since abandoned faith- was trying to warn him not to go on. To finally deny a mission and face the consequences.

The smiling, elated faces of Rebekah and Henrik were what made him push on. He could not allow them to see the world they truly lived in. A world ruled by whoever was most powerful, had more money or was not afraid to have gallons of blood stain his hands.

 _Time to add more crimson to my ledger too_ , he sorrowfully pondered before getting in the right mindset- vanquishing any moral values and becoming the monster everybody claimed he was.

Swiftly, Klaus picked the lock and entered the living room. Blackness shrouded him and it took a few seconds for his eyes to grow accustomed to it. Without making further noise, Finn closed to door behind them and drew his weapon out as well. Both men moved in synch, efficiently clearing the room.

All went according to plan until Klaus's feet hit something. Flinching at having disrupted the silence even in this barely perceptible manner, the man could not help bending down to see what it was.

In the dim light, Klaus could swear a teddy bear laid on the floor, but wishing to ensure, he picked it up and checked, double-checking in the moonlight, hoping his eyes were playing tricks on him.

They weren't.

A plush toy was what his hands were clutching.

"What the hell is this, Finn?" he harshly whispered, barley keeping his voice down.

"I believe it's a stuffed animal, Niklaus."

At that senseless sarcastic quip his blood pressure surged to infinite levels. Anger was boiling beneath his apparently cool façade and he had to take a few deep breaths to keep from shouting.

"I have eyes of my own, Finn. What I meant to ask is if there is a child in this house," he could not help slightly raising the level in which he spoke.

"Perhaps. The man has a daughter, but I do not know if she is home."

He said the words so easily, like they made no difference when, in fact, they changed everything. It was one thing to kill a man, and a different one altogether a kid. Frankly, Klaus did not think he could do it. It was too much even for him. His moral compass hadn't broken that much as to not put a clear limit when it came to that.

Turning on his heels without adding anything for fear of hitting his brother straight in the face and waking the entire neighborhood, a hand clasped tightly around his wrist.

"Where are you going, brother? The job is not done yet."

"For me it is," he shook Finn off. "We'll kill him somewhere else. I'll figure it out on my own if I have to, but I'm not hurting his family."

"There will be no better opportunity. Father said we have to do it tonight, his partners insisted on it."

With that, Finn succeeded in sending Klaus's already flayed nerves off. Sometimes, he wondered whether his brother was a robot who knew nothing else but to obey blindly. Or did he really not have any qualms about ending a toddler's life?

"And I said we'll do it some other time," a deadly warning laced his words leaving no room for questioning.

They were almost out of the house. Almost.

But nothing could ever go right for Klaus. It just wasn't in his DNA. Cursed is how he had probably been born.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?"

No one else but the police detective marched down the stairs, clad in a black t-shirt and boxers, gun drawn out. Immediately, two weapons were pointed at him, Finn without blinking while Klaus was calculating the best plan to ensure the safety of the child and possibly the wife upstairs. All that remained was to kill this man as quickly as possible and get out before the ruckus awakened the house's other inhabitants.

"Lower your gun," Klaus began. "You're outnumbered and it's not in your best interest for bullets to begin to fly," seeing the man hesitate he continued." I have no intention of harming your family if you just do as I say and trust me I could easily kill you all if I wanted to."

The worst part was that he really could. Without that much of an effort.

"How do I know you're telling the truth and that you won't just kill me and then go upstairs and have your way with my wife and daughter?"

The man attempted to look composed, but it was clear that he realized the impossible situation he was currently in and that what Klaus was offering was the best it could get.

On the other side of the room, the younger Mikaelson was downright disgusted at what the man had implied he was capable of. Rape was one thing he had never even gotten close to and never would. The vile act had him nauseous and positive that he would murder anyone who tried it. Especially on a defenseless child.

"You have my word," he tried to appear composed, but some cracks in his armor must have been obvious because Finn was frowning and the man was hesitating, gun wavering in his hand. "But you have to make up your mind. If your family comes down the stairs, the equation changes drastically."

Truth be told, Klaus was not very certain of what he was saying and if he could really make good of his threat, but the police officer did not have to know.

"Time is running out, detective," he forced out, loathing himself even more with each word tumbling out of his mouth, aware that his weakness was starting to show. "I might appear to hesitate right now, but believe me when I say my associate will not."

One furtive look at an expressionless Finn seemed to do the trick because the weapon landed at Klaus's feet, resignation taking over the man's face. Like any other who had been born with the innate ability to self-sacrifice, the cop chose death to ensure his beloved ones survived. "Just do it quickly," he brokenly murmured.

And Klaus should have just done it. Only he was faltering. Pictures of a weeping, little girl coming across her father's corpse in a pool of congealed blood were holding him back. Unsteady hands wrestled to regain control and to get it done and he had nearly succeeded in reaching that place where he could block off anything but what he had to do.

Nearly.

A high-pitched scream ruined his inner equilibrium entirely. Accompanying it came running a young child, no more than 4, charging in her father's arms. The mother followed immediately, stopping abruptly when she saw the intruders.

The police officer moved within seconds, making himself a human shield between their guns and his family.

"Daddy," the girl wept. "Who are these people and why are they in our house?"

"Don't worry sweetheart, everything will be alright. Daddy won't let anything happen to you," he tried to hand over the girl to her petrified mum.

"Do not move," Finn intervened upon realizing that Klaus was freezing up and opting to finish it himself. "No one move!" The sternness with which he spoke left no room for arguing, making it clear that he was not one to lose himself over such petty things as two innocent lives being uselessly claimed.

"Just let my family go. They know nothing of my work, of who you are, they're innocent. I'm begging you, do whatever you want to me, but don't hurt them."

Tears were threatening to fall from the poor man's ocean eyes as he turned towards Klaus, sensing the he was the one more likely to have qualms about killing them. "Please," he enforced his appeal.

In that instant Klaus felt more lost than he'd ever been. The main reason he had for doing this was to protect his innocent siblings. But weren't these people here just as innocent as Rebekah and Henrik? Who was he to decide his kin was more important? Weren't all lives equal?

"They should have stayed upstairs then, I'm afraid they've given us no choice," Finn pulled the safety off, announcing his intentions clearly.

A decision had to be made. Quickly. If Klaus did nothing, this family would die and Henrik and Rebekah would get to live another happy, blissfully oblivious day. But was that worth wiping three persons off the face of Earth?

He could try to save his siblings; try to protect them from his father's evilness. They could still get another chance, but for the people in front of him, this was it. They would get no redo, no second chance.

To his surprise, in the end it was easier to choose than expected.

Lifting his weapon again, he spoke sternly. "Actually, brother, there is another choice."

A flabbergasted Finn turned to look at him only to find himself facing down the barrel of a gun. Surprise furrowed his eyebrows at his brother's unexpected show of emotions and conscience.

"Lower your weapon, Finn," but his warning was not heeded, but instead met with a mocking smirk.

"You really expect me to believe you capable of pulling the trigger, when you couldn't even do it against these poor bastards whose fate has already been sealed?"

Sensing that he was not being taken seriously, Klaus dug deep and managed to pull out shreds of the person buried deep within him. The demon they all feared and which he kept locked away, deep underneath himself for as long as he could because it not only terrified those near him, but also himself.

Until Mikael forcefully let it out to play.

"Do not make me do something I will regret," his voice grew darker, more sinister. "You've seen firsthand what I am really capable of when pushed to the limit."

Judging by the slight raise of his eyebrows- a huge tell for the usually expressionless Finn- it had started to sink in just how gravely he'd misjudged Niklaus.

His ability to stand up for what he believed in, something which Mikael and Finn believed had been wrecked by his time under their thumb, had been severely underestimated.

"You would really hurt your own flesh and blood?"

That appeal to emotion served to soften Klaus up for a brief while, but he was quickly reminded that the one thing Finn had never treated him like had been as a brother. Almost the same hatred as Mikael's had resided in the elder's gaze.

A whimper caught his attention. The family had huddled together, the man comforting the sobbing figures that were coming apart in his arms. Although he was putting tremendous efforts into appearing confident and not like a man who'd been preparing to die just minutes ago, the detective was tensely watching the family drama unfolding before him, clearly waiting for the right moment to just make a run for it.

Foolish man.

Without Klaus's help, they would all be dead before counting to 5.

"I will do what I have to in order to ensure that these people get out of here unharmed and it would not be in your best interest to fight me, brother," deadly undertones laced his phrase. "Give me your gun," he extended one hand, while the other remained trained on Finn. "Now!"

Sensing that Klaus had entered that phase where he was not to be trifled with, Finn reluctantly complied.

"You," the police officer jumped when addressed. "I want you to listen to me very carefully because I do not have the time nor the patience to repeat this. The man I work for is incredibly dangerous and powerful and once a hit has been ordered on you, there is no going back. I'm willing to help you and your family make a run for it, but you have to do exactly as I say. Do you understand?"

All others in the room remained quiet, the man not moving a muscle to respond, clearly still in shock.

"Do you understand?" the sandy-haired man repeated the question managing to sound even more intimidating. He needed him to snap out of that pathetic stance and be the brave man willing to die for his family. Be a survivor and drag his broken family with him.

In the end, a nod finally made it his way and Klaus knew the adults were at least alert enough to register everything he told them.

"You have to get out of here, out of the country as quickly as possible. Go somewhere Mikael doesn't have enough reach to find and take you back. Go for a city populated enough to blend in the crowd but where you also know everyone if you simply pay attention. Somewhere you can easily spot anyone out to get you, but also a place you haven't been before as to not get recognized."

"I…" the wife started babbling, proving that she was made of stronger material than he'd given her credit for. "I think I know just the place, it's in…"

Yet Klaus effectively shut her up. "Don't! I don't want to know. It's safer for you that way."

"You're going to need new identities and papers, but I'm sure someone with your background can engineer something like that," Klaus addressed the police officer who was busy looking at the ground, shame apparent of his face.

"I don't have the money for that at this moment," the man appeared literally crushed at admitting that.

Closing his eyes, trying to figure someway around that little detail, Klaus could only come up with one solution. It would ensure these people got out safely. However, if he did do that, Klaus would be losing one of the things which could grant him an escape following his betrayal to Mikael.

"You," he pointed to the wife after he'd made up his mind. "Come here!" The husband wanted to hold her back, but chose not to at the last moment, aware that the man holding the pistol was their only shot at making it out alive. "In my left pocket there's a wallet. I want you to take it out and grab the black credit card."

After the woman did as asked, Klaus became aware three puzzled pairs of eyes turned in his direction, expecting a reasonable explanation.

"It's not it my name and it's untraceable," he finally offered. "There's enough money to get you anywhere you desire and keep you comfortable for a pretty long time."

That money was his part of the business conducted with Mikael. Blood money that he hadn't touched. Saving it just in case he needed to flee Mikael's side and to ensure a life without a care for him and his siblings.

That time was coming fast and he had been left with absolutely nothing, but somehow, he couldn't really regret what he'd done. One look at the little girl and he was sure he'd done what was right.

For once in his life, he'd been a good man.

"You have to go now. We haven't checked in and I don't know how much longer until my employee sends a search party. Go in your car, put a safe distance between you and this place and then steal a different vehicle. Don't stay too long in one or you might get caught. Most importantly, don't get in touch with anyone from the police force. There are plenty of dirty cops on our pay roll. Go!"

The shouting of the last word had been meant to send them into action and it did. They were almost out of the door, the man carrying his still crying daughter as she fearfully buried her head into his chest. The wife halted her brisk steps, looking at him one last time.

"Thank you," she whispered softly. "Thank you for everything."

Such words of gratitude left Klaus stunned. Merely a quarter of an hour ago, he'd been planning to kill her husband in cold blood and now she was thanking him. There was nothing to thank here. All he'd done was be decent.

Probably trading his life for theirs in the process.

After the car's engine could no longer be heard, Klaus lowered his gun. This ordeal had drained him of all force, the monster back in its cage; the younger Mikaelson did not have it in him to fight his brother.

All strength seeping from his body, the weapon tumbled to the floor. It only took Finn ten seconds to pick it up and turn the weapon on him.

"You have no idea the hell you've just wrought upon yourself, Niklaus. No idea," was the first thing he said.

"As a matter of fact I do, brother. I know perfectly well what father does to traitors or have you forgotten that I pulled the trigger on one myself? I harbor no delusion of getting out of this alive," Klaus bit his lip, wondering if asking for help was worth a try.

It wasn't.

He quickly realized that, knowing Finn, he would want a VIP ticket to his disemboweling.

"Father will destroy you, rip you apart piece by piece and even if he were to show mercy, his partners had demanded the weapons back and the head of the one who took them on a stick. They are ruthless, Niklaus, trust me you have just dug your own grave."

"I know," he simply stated.

"Then why did you do it?" incredulity laced his voice.

"Because it was the right thing to do and for once in my life," his voice broke. "I just wanted to do the honourable thing."

"You're an even bigger fool than I thought you were. Move," disdainfully, the gun was pressed to his side, beckoning him to advance towards the car. And he did just that, no protesting and no begging for aid. Instead, he chose to quietly listen to Finn aware that he was probably walking to his own funeral.

 _I'm sorry, Henrik. I failed you, little brother,_ was all he could think of the entire ride back home.

Clouds obscured the moon, crispy early morning air biting his skin, but Klaus was numb to it. All he could focus on was the imposing silhouette of his house, the place where Finn had driven them.

Truth be told, he'd been expecting the warehouse where Mikael did most of his dirty work, but to his surprise, his father had ordered for his wayward son to be brought home.

Hope- a deceiving feeling- had been ignited inside his heart that maybe Mikael would let this one slide and that neither him nor Henrik would suffer the consequences of him breaking the deal.

That feeble feeling was quickly squandered when instead of entering the house Finn led him to the stable. A metallic, pungent smell hit him from the get-go.

A smell he was all too familiar with.

Blood.

The source became obvious after a few more steps.

Domino.

The horse he'd bought for Henrik with all of his love, the source of so much happiness for his younger brother was lying in a pool of its own blood. The crimson, disgusting liquid stained its pristinely white fur, turning it a sickening shade of dark pink. A gaping hole had been carved into his abdomen, leaving internal organs and bowels out onto the orange hay.

The poor creature was still clutching at life, ragged breaths shaking its mangled body as strikingly humane brown eyes landed on Klaus who could have sworn to see recognition shine in them as the animal tried to neigh at the sight of one of the two people who'd taken care of it.

Contrary to his wishes, the man could feel warmth travelling to his irises and he tried to reign himself in. Show no sign of weakness to the man right next to the horse.

Mikael.

His father.

"Hello, Niklaus," the man serenely greeted. "Did you enjoy the surprise I had waiting for you? I even left it alive to greet you, dear _son_."

"You're a monster!"

A sadistic laugh wracked Mikael's body as he came near Klaus, wiping his blood-stained knife on Klaus's shirt.

"And what do you think you are, Niklaus? Have you not hurt people? Have you not killed people? Tell me, what's the difference between us?"

Those rhetorical questions hit their mark perfectly. Right in the centre of Klaus's disgust for the person he was. For what he had proven capable of.

"You know why I did what I did," he tried to argue, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

"You still did it. Regardless of how you hide behind poor justifications of your deeds, you still murdered on my behalf. And did it better than all of my people. You see, Niklaus, I don't understand it myself, but you are the one son who truly resembles me."

"No," Klaus shook his head, protesting. "I am nothing like you and I will never be."

"On that you are right. You will never be like me because, in the end, you chose to be weak, to be like _him_ and your mother. A coward," true disappointment shone in his father's eyes, but what really lingered with Klaus was the pronoun Mikael had thrown with great hatred.

Who was he talking about?

Before he could question it any further, Mikael beckoned Finn to take him to the basement and wait for him there. His older brother forcefully pushed him away and all Klaus could do was cast a final look at Domino. The suffering animal that drew one last gulp of air and remained motionless, life finally draining from its eyes.

Klaus knew he was the next one to follow in Domino's footsteps. All that remained was the hope that he might convince Mikael to let Henrik and Rebekah live their lives without destroying them like he had his other children.

Like he had utterly and completely wrecked Klaus.

He would surely try until his final breath to make that happen.

Rope tightly held his hands behind his back, literally cutting into his skin as he uselessly struggled against the restraints.

The wooden chair he was tied to shook under his weight and Klaus prayed that it would break, giving him a fighting chance. A moldy smell invaded his nostrils, but it could not completely vanquish the coppery one his shirt let off.

Domino's blood had coagulated on his shirt and it didn't allow Klaus to forget the poor creature's face as it died on the floor. Sacrificed for his sins.

Finn was resting on one of the numerous cases in the basement, amusedly watching his brother try to free himself. It was quite entertaining, but he was sure nothing would compare to what was coming.

Nobody crossed Mikael and lived to talk about it.

His younger brother would learn that lesson today, the hard way.

Seconds trickled by, turning into minutes and Klaus grew more and more impatient. If Mikael had only wanted to kill him, it would have been done by now. No, his father would make a spectacle of his death, enjoying every moment of it.

There was one last request Klaus had, just in case anyone up there was listening: that his family would not be forced to assist his demise. Most would not be able to stomach it and Klaus only shuddered at the possibility of anyone intervening on his behalf.

Eventually, the door opened, letting in some light. Enough for Klaus to realize that dawn had started to break. The first person to come in was none other than Elijah. Upon seeing the condition of his brother, he ran all the way down the stairs, dropping to his knees in front of Klaus.

"Niklaus, what has happened?"

Unable to take the concern hidden behind his brother's orbs and unwilling to say his goodbye just yet, the sandy blond turned away.

"He refused to obey father. Allowed a detective and his family to escape," Finn offered in his stead.

Elijah audibly gasped at hearing of his brother's blatant betrayal. Finally, when the silence and the feel of his brother's eyes burning a hole through him became too much, Klaus turned to look at him and was blown away by the genuine pain and desperation found within his brother. He darted back and forth between Klaus and Finn, clearly calculating each and every scenario.

Judging by the desponded look that replaced the pensive one, he had reached the same conclusion as Klaus: there was no getting out of this alive.

"Brother, I…" Elijah choked out. "I can't, I don't…"

"I know," Klaus cut in, voice loaded with a million different undertones of emotions. "It's alright, I've made my peace with dying, but I need you to promise me one last thing."

"No," Elijah tried to argue, desperately grasping at straws and refusing to accept the unavoidable. "I'll talk with father myself, stop this madness. There must be a way. You were able to change his mind once before."

"Elijah!" Klaus put an end to his babbling not even wanting to consider the possibility of his brother offering himself on a silver platter to Mikael to save him. "You are wasting whatever little time we have before Mikael walks through that door. I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," transparent liquid filled the raven-haired man's orbs, his voice shaking.

"Look after Henrik and Rebekah. Don't allow Mikael to ruin them like he ruined me, like he ruined us. Protect them like I tried to and failed."

"I will, brother. I swear to you. Remember: always and forever."

Those words were like a dagger to Klaus's heart. Back when they were younger, all the Mikaelson children aside from Finn had made a promise to always look after each other, always be there for one another and never allow any harm to befall the others. That phrase stood for that promise and it tore at Klaus's insides to have failed to fulfill it.

"Always and forever," he willed himself to repeat, forcing a small smile, feigning bravery he did not feel.

"How incredibly touching," Finn mockingly clapped. "Father is right. You are all a bunch of weaklings dominated by petty things like feelings. That is why you will all end up dead like Niklaus here."

"At least we'll be able to say we lived, dear brother," Elijah calmly responded. "That we were more than puppets in our father's intricate plays."

Finn was just about to say something when the door was thrown back and inside tumbled the rest of the Mikaelson family. Moreover, Klaus's friends, Lucien, accompanied by his girlfriend, Aurora, Marcel and Stefan followed in Mikael's footsteps. Brought here for the show, most likely.

A series of disbelieving exclamations were let out at the sight of Klaus strapped to a chair, blood staining his clothes.

"Son!" Esther ran to him, pushing Elijah to the side and taking his place. Tears had already left tracks on her beautiful face, her gentle hand cupping Klaus's face. The man leaned into his mother's touch, basking in her warmth and love and using them to steel himself for what was to come.

"Father, why is Klaus tied down?" Henrik innocently asked.

"Because he has betrayed us, my dear son and he has to pay for it."

So cold were the words Mikael had spoken that Henrik flinched away from him along with Rebekah. Klaus's heart felt for them because tonight they would be shown their father's true face. And they would most likely be forced to assist to his execution.

Undoubtedly, that would destroy them.

Desperately, his eyes scanned the room, searching for anyone willing to help him, but they all turned away from his gaze as if ashamed of themselves for permitting it, but too afraid to do anything.

"Father," Klaus gathered his wits and what was left of his courage and spoke. "I understand and welcome my punishment, but not in front of my siblings. Please, I know you've always hated me and that I am nothing but a disappointment to you, but if there was ever a time when you loved me as your son, I'm begging you not to force them to watch this."

His appeal to Mikael's emotions was his last resort and all it accomplished was amuse Mikael. "My _son_ ," he bitterly spoke. "Niklaus, I think it's finally time for the truth. What do you say, Esther? Shall I tell the boy why I've always resented him?"

"Mikael, don't," the woman begged stirring even more confusion among her children.

"Shall I or shall you?" He gave about a minute for effect and when his wife remained quiet, he loudly proclaimed the one bit of truth that put everything in a different light. The one thing that cleared up all doubt regarding Klaus's fate. "You are not my son, Niklaus. You are the product of your mother's affair with my most trusted employee."

Klaus's first instinct was to refuse to accept what his father was saying. To chalk it up as his newest and most ingenious way to make him suffer, but one look at his contrite mother, who had lowered her head to the ground, confirmed everything Mikael had been saying.

"Now you see, Niklaus. The reason why I could never love you like my other children is quite simple: you are not mine. And as for your request, I'm sorry, but they will see your punishment. They will see what happens when you cross me. Learn not to do it themselves."

The oldest Mikaelson went to one of the cases and propped it open. To everybody's shock, inside laid dozens of weapons: manual, automatic, assault rifles and even anti-aircraft weaponry and right beside them was a smaller suitcase. Mikael only took that one out, an evil smile breaking out on his face at the sight of whatever he landed eyes on.

"Oh," he brusquely turned around. "Since you broke our deal, Henrik will be joining me in my endeavors and abandon those silly dreams of attending medical school. It is only fair, Niklaus. As a matter of fact, his initiation in my business will be today. Now, shall we get started?"

Just as he said that, his cell phone rang, eyebrows furrowing at seeing the caller ID and storming out of the room, leaving Finn as his bodyguard and also allowing them a peek at what was inside the suitcase –a wide variety of torture instruments.

"Son, I'm so sorry," his mother brokenly pleaded for his forgiveness. "This is my entire fault."

"No, it's not. I made my own choices and now I'm paying for them."

That was the closest he could get himself to comfort the woman who'd lied to him all of his life, unable to keep the bite out of his voice. If only she'd told the truth, she would have saved him much heartbreak in his childhood and made growing up fatherless easier. At least he wouldn't have spent countless nights wondering what he'd done wrong.

"Brother!" Henrik exclaimed and jumped to hug him, engulfing him in a tight embrace, sobbing against his chest. "What's father going to do to you? What business is he talking about?"

"Henrik, I need you to listen to me. Whatever father will do to me, you cannot interfere," Klaus had to make sure of that. Otherwise, his younger brother could end up hurt as well, making everything he'd done so far redundant. Still, there was not enough time to answer his questions. "I can take whatever Mikael throws at me. Trust me, I am strong enough to face him" he turned toward all of his siblings, reiterating what he'd previously asked although he felt nowhere near as sure as he projected to be. "Not one of you will disobey Mikael in regards to what he does to me. You will just let it happen."

"Nik," Rebekah joined Henrik in squeezing him to her chest, openly weeping as she understood what was coming. "I love you," she murmured in his ear, giving him unexpected force to face the music. For them, he would not give Mikael any satisfaction.

"Step away from him, right now!" their seething father barked as he slammed the door in his wake. His fury had seemingly reached new levels. When his children refused to listen, he grabbed them both by the shoulders and forcefully removed them from Klaus, throwing them to the side with all of his might. "Do you have any idea what your foolishness has caused me, you pathetic boy?"

Klaus remained immune to the roaring man, not even blinking, his mouth sealed shut. If Mikael thought he would beg for forgiveness, he was gravely mistaken. Regardless of what would happen to him, nothing could erase that he'd done the right thing. Being even remotely at peace with himself made everything else easier to confront.

The punch came out of nowhere, hitting him straight across the face. "Answer me when I speak to you, Niklaus!"

Defiantly, Klaus lifted his eyes, staring Mikael down, not deigning him worthy of an answer. The next strike was expected and Klaus was more prepared for it. Another one followed and then another, a crunch filling the eerie silence as his cheekbones snapped under the excruciating pressure. Blood had filled his mouth, but not even a flinch escaped his lips. If there was one thing he would not do was to give the man pounding him the satisfaction of giving in, showing how much it truly hurt.

The next hit caught him straight across the temple, leaving him dizzy, for a brief second unable to lift his head back up. Yet his jaw remained tightly clenched, the scream of agony dying inside his parched throat.

"Father, that's enough! Please, stop this!" Henrik let out when he couldn't take it anymore.

Mikael's attention left his traitor son's body and concentrated on his youngest offspring. The most sentimental one had buried his face in his mother's side, both brokenly crying pained tears like the ones Niklaus refused to shed.

The ones he should be shedding. The ones that would form a river once he was done.

"Oh, but I am only getting started."

"No, please," Rebekah spoke now, quietly, with all the courage she could muster. "Please!"

"Stay out of this!" Klaus surprised all of them by how strong his voice sounded, no cracks obvious, bold mercury eyes focusing on his younger siblings, begging them to keep quiet, not draw unnecessary attention to themselves. He could take anything so long as they were alright.

His outburst had the wanted effect because Mikael turned back to the tied down man, something akin to admiration in his orbs. "You are not going to break this easily, are you Niklaus?"

All Klaus did was shake his head and spit out the blood swimming inside his mouth right at his father's feet, sending a clear message.

"You will never break me, Mikael. Not in this life."

Apparently taking that as a provocation, his father turned back to the suitcase, probably searching for a proper torture instrument when he caught sight of Finn puffing on a cigarette, tremendously enjoying the brutal spectacle.

Giving no warning, his father snatched it out of his hands and swiftly pressed it down on Klaus's skin, burning through the thin t-shirt. The nauseating scent of charred flesh filled his nostrils, but nothing was worse than the intense pain radiating from his chest as Mikael repeated the action countless times.

Heaving, Klaus felt bile reach his throat and it took everything he had to swallow it down. Heat had encompassed his entire body, sweat forming a thick sheen on his pale body. The cotton garment he'd been wearing was now gaping with dozens of holes, appearing as if a rookie had used it as target practice.

"All this and you have yet to scream for me, Niklaus. You have yet to beg me for your pointless existence."

Willing his thumping heart to slow down a bit, Klaus forced all of his might into one last look at his torturer. Blood loss was starting to sink in, draining most of the power left in his body. He genuinely felt like a toy ruthlessly being torn apart.

"That," he shakily inhaled. "Is never going to happen. You might as well kill me now and save yourself the time and effort."

More angry than he'd been in a long time and not only that the strongest of his children had turned out to be only one he did not father, but also because his partners had sworn to seek retribution for his failure to eliminate the threat, Mikael found himself pointing his revolver at Klaus's forehead and hesitating.

Hesitating because it seemed entirely too easy for him to receive such a way out.

He deserved more suffering, but no pain he'd inflicted so far had succeeded in putting out the rebellious glare Klaus was fixing him with.

No, this boy did not fear death. In fact, he seemed to welcome it.

And the last thing he wanted was to give him what he sought.

Ransacking the depths of his mind for a way to inflict real damage on Klaus's psyche, Mikael finally realized what the only way to really hurt his prisoner was. How could he have been so dense as to not figure it out sooner?

"Oh, you will die, Niklaus, but it will not be me pulling the trigger," he lowered his weapon.

All present turned to focus on the family's leader, clearly confused by what he'd uttered.

Could it really be true?

Could Mikael finally show he had a heart, hidden somewhere behind layers and layers of thick armor?

Was he truly willing to spare Klaus?

Nobody dared to even breathe, frozen in place, waiting for what he had to say.

"It will be your dear Henrik who will do the honors."

All faith evaporated, Mikael's callousness squandering it and along with it, Klaus's daring glares. Spotlights landed on the youngest Mikaelson, whose puffy, red eyes suddenly exploded with disbelief and fear.

"Quite poetic, isn't it? All you've done, put yourself through to protect your little brother and now he will be the one to end you."

Henrik desperately shook his head, unable to snap out of his shocked state, repeating over and over a mellow "No."

"Take it, son," the 9mm Glock was extended towards the 18 year old who was staring at it with eyes the size of saucers. "Take it!" Mikael repeated louder upon seeing that his command would not be heeded any time soon.

"Do it or I swear I will do it myself. I will tear him apart limb by limb and watch him bleed out. And as he is slowly drained, I will ensure that he witnesses your death for refusing to fulfill my orders. I do not need someone who is unable to do as I say whenever I say and anyone rendered useless shall not live to see another sunrise. Not in my family."

That made it clear that Mikael was done playing around. His threats would become true; of it Klaus had no doubt.

"Do as he says, brother," he dejectedly added, loathing that young, pristine Henrik would have his blood on his hands. At least he would be alive, was all that prompted him to continue. "It's ok. He'll kill me anyway and I've made my peace with that. Henrik, what I cannot fathom is you dying along with me. I just can't," the first tear rolled down his bloody cheek, cleansing it of the maroon liquid. "Please, just do it."

Although Klaus knew that Henrik would never be the same, that darkness would start to take over his mind, like it had him, he also knew that it was the only way one of them would make it out alive.

And while there is life, there is the possibility of redemption, and if there was anybody who could walk that abrupt road until the very end, that was Henrik Mikaelson.

Tentatively, Henrik put one foot in front of the other and grabbed the vile item extended to him.

"All you have to do is pull the trigger, son," Mikael encouraged, licking his lips in satisfaction.

The only thing Klaus found himself capable of doing was flash the person holding him at gunpoint a sincere smile that he hoped conveyed all that he was feeling: the fact the he could never blame Henrik for it and that he was proud of his younger brother's valor.

Blurred vision.

Hands trembling worse than a fragile leaf caught in a hurricane.

That was Henrik's state as he slowly squeezed the trigger.

 _Bang!_

The gunshot deafened them, Rebekah and Esther huddled together, neither able to look at the scene while the others, save from Mikael and Finn, turned their heads away at the sound.

Klaus, on his part, felt the most intense agony he'd felt in his entire life as the small piece of metal embedded itself into his skin, tearing through flesh, muscle and bone as if they were cotton candy.

Yet, he had expected the impact to knock him out instantly, not to be able to feel the aftermath. Confused, he let sapphire roam down his torso, only to find a black crater in his shoulder, bleeding profoundly, but not immediately life-threatening.

The reason why became apparent after one inquisitive look at Henrik who appeared on the border of a panic attack, unable to really wield a gun, his nerves too big. Even though he'd aimed for the heart, to grant his brother a quick, painless death, he'd missed by a long way.

"You useless brat," Mikael snatched the deadly object from his son's quavering limbs. "Not even able to hit a man strapped down to a chair that is not fighting you. Do I really have to do everything myself?"

 _This is it,_ Klaus realized when he saw through half-lidded eyes that Mikael had taken aim himself. No luck could save him this time.

Or so he thought, because out of the blue, the sound of tires screeching on the pavement interrupted Mikael who had already started to squeeze the trigger. The prattle of heavy boots followed it and then, the sound of their front door being blown to pieces was enough to make their blood run cold.

"It has to be them," Finn desperately addressed his father. "Like threatened, they came to collect their weapons."

"And I don't have them, Niklaus, because of you!" the gun rose again, this time touching his skin, the cold metal sending a shiver down Klaus's back.

"Father, a gunshot equals telegraphing our position to all of the intruders. Now is not the time," Elijah bought him a few more minutes. "It would be better to try and fight them off with what we have here."

Realizing the honest truth that his son was speaking, Mikael sighed and sheathed the Glock. "I'm going to need all of your help. These are mercenaries who sell weapons to the most dangerous terrorist organizations. They will shoot on sight so there is no time for hesitation. You hesitate, you die," Mikael professed with a pointed look at Henrik.

Arming everybody in the room in less than a minute, Mikael had almost reached the door when he turned towards Klaus. "We'll finish this when I get back, Niklaus," then, and only then did his eyes land on the red-haired woman who was squeezing on Lucien's hand, her knuckles pale on the small Smith&Wesson she'd been given. "You stay here," Mikael ordered. "Outside all you'd be is a burden."

And the woman obeyed, relief etched all over her delicate figures at being left behind. She would not have to go out there. She would not have to try and murder someone.

It didn't take much until the sound of heavy gunfire reached them. His own pain now locked away in a dark corner of his mind, Klaus sent a quick prayer- he was that desperate- that his siblings and friends would come out unscathed, however remote that possibility was.

Terrified by what was going on, reduced to a whimpering mess, Aurora let herself crumble to the floor before her knees buckled, the weapon slowly slipping through her fingertips.

As the sounds of battle grew closer and closer to their room, it became abundantly clear that, were an enemy to walk through the door, they would both be dead people. Lucien's girlfriend had never been anywhere near real combat and with him tied to a chair, their odds dropped to a staggering zero.

"You have to untie me," Klaus spoke loudly, hoping to get through to her.

Before it was too late.

And he did, but not with the wanted result. The usually fiery woman shook her head repeatedly, words still too much of a challenge for her.

"Aurora, listen to me, if anyone other than my family comes down the stairs, you can bid farewell to your life. To both of our lives."

"I…" she seemed to consider it. "I can't. If Mikael finds out, he'll kill me." Her crying was out of control, knees drawn to the chest as she cradled her head between her legs, in a desperate effort to drown out the noises.

"I swear, I won't try to escape. Aurora, please!" he all but screamed, biting back a flinch as his wound opened even more in his struggle against the restraints. Somehow, his frenzied begging affected the red-haired who started to stand up, heading towards him.

Unfortunately, by then it was already too late.

The door was slammed open, revealing two men, in full tactical gear, AK-47s resting on their shoulders. The Mikaelson shuddered at thinking that these people had gotten so far through his father's defenses and hoped that it didn't mean a member of his family had died, but couldn't linger on that possibility. No, he had to try and figure out a way they would both get out of here alive.

Or at least Aurora. He was a dead man walking any way.

Cautiously, the men descended, scanning the room for anybody other than Klaus and Aurora, ecstatic grins covering their faces when they found nobody.

From walking towards him to set him loose, the woman went to making a desperate run for the weapon she'd thrown away, but a rough voice stopped her before she could take two steps. "If you move, little girl, I'll blow your head off!"

The threat had not been in vain, the man thirstily licking his lips at the mere possibility of shooting her. Both of their assailants spared him no more than a fugitive glance, sure that the injured, bound man was no immediate threat.

The worst, most despairing part was that they were right.

Out of the two who had come down, although both looked murderous, the youngest one had something that unsettled Klaus deeply. Maybe it was the way he'd spoken previously, an acute desire for violence residing within his voice, or maybe it was the way his onyx eyes hungrily ran up and down Aurora's body.

Stopping right in front of her, his fingers ran down her cheek, gently squeezing on her neck and then, without warning, tore into two her silk blouse, leaving her in nothing but a red, lace bra. "Oh, we're going to have so much fun with you, my dear," he leered as the woman turned her head away, shakily exhaling.

"Let her go, you cowards," Klaus roared with all of his might, unable to fathom the idea of her being raped as he uselessly stood by. "Pick on someone your own size!"

All his provocations accomplished was to prompt the elder assailant to bury the tip of his rifle into his wound as deeply as it could enter and then to slowly rotate it, like one would a screw that had come loose. Suffice it to say, the pain erupting was unlike any he'd felt before, tears sprung to his orbits and he bit down on his tongue until he could feel blood fill his mouth just so that the scream would die in his throat.

"Can I go first?" the young one questioned. "I promise I'll be quick so you can enjoy her too."

How could someone be that despicable as to talk about rape like it was the most common thing in the world? It was like they were discussing who should go and grab some milk from the store.

Only after he'd been given nonverbal permission, the man forcefully slammed his lips on Aurora's, throwing her to the ground, unbuttoning his pants and lowering on top of the sniveling woman.

Meanwhile, Klaus fought and fought against the rope, screaming at them to stop until his throat was raw and his wrists bled from the struggle. But all that faded in the background.

The one thing that mattered was that both men had taken turns on Lucien's girlfriend and he had been nothing but a spectator. A good-for-nothing spectator who would have given anything to prevent this or at least to take all of her pain onto himself. She was good, not like the rest of them and she had not deserved this. The brutality with which they were treating her exceeded anything he'd witnessed before.

Moreover, he couldn't stop it and he hated himself for it. Another name to add to the list of people wrecked by him.

Once those pigs were done and had put their clothes back on, without any warning, they emptied half a clip into the poor woman's exposed abdomen. The only comfort was that her death was swift and most likely painless, but Klaus could not get out of his head the serenity that had taken over the woman when the first bullet pierced her skin.

Relief that her nightmare had ended.

An image that would surely haunt him for however long he lived.

Now, it was Klaus's turn, for the hundredth time that night, to be face to face with the barrel of a gun. It didn't even scare him anymore. He welcomed it. If he died, no one would have to suffer the consequences of being next to him.

Yet, true to how events had played out recently, the door opened for the second time, revealing none other than Elijah, Henrik and Lucien. A pang went through his heart at seeing his friend walk in, oblivious to the gruesome sight expecting him. Without wasting any time, his older brother dispatched the surprised men with two effective shots and then ran to his brother's side.

"Are you alright?" he asked not spotting the female body.

"I'm fine," Klaus shook him off, disbelievingly. It was like something out there refused to allow him to die.

The wail that Lucien let out was so heartbreaking that all turned to look at him.

"Aurora," he collapsed near her. "Love, can you hear me? Please open your eyes," he patted her bruised cheek. "Open those gorgeous eyes of yours and look at me, love. Please," rivulets ran down his face.

The others in the room had eyes only for the tragic scene in front of them, tears of their own shinning in their orbs.

Continuing to refuse to accept that Aurora had passed away, Lucien gathered her lifeless corpse into his arms, clutching her to his chest, pleading that she wake up.

Elijah wordlessly walked to him, planting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She's gone, Lucien, She's gone."

As that went on, the refusal to accept the facts not yielding, Henrik appeared out of nowhere beside Klaus and in a fluid move cut off his binds. "We're getting you out of there," he whispered, winking.

The now free man wanted to protest, to say that it was too dangerous, but maybe escaping with his brother was enough to take a chance. Deciding that he had nothing else to lose, Klaus forced his jelly legs to support his weight, closing his eyes as a wave of dizziness hit him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Elijah had witnessed the entire thing, but chosen to turn a blind eye. If they managed to escape, he would be the happiest man on Earth so there was absolutely no way he would stand in their path to freedom.

Unfortunately, the other occupant of the room had other plans.

"Where do you think you're going, Klaus?" Lucien furiously shouted, but did not await an answer. "She's dead, the woman I love is dead and it's all because of you. How can you truly expect me to just let you go?"

The accusations against him stung more than he would ever admit it because, from his point of view, they held a staggering amount of truth. If he had been able to free himself, if he'd been a better fighter, none of this would have happened. More importantly, if he'd been able to do his mission, these people wouldn't have ever attacked Mikael's house.

"I tried to stop it, I swear, Lucien, I did," he weakly defended himself.

"Well, you should have tried harder! It should have been you and not my innocent Aurora. Look what they did to her!"

Klaus didn't need to look for he'd seen it in person and was sure he would never forget it.

Lucien took out one of his weapons and was just about to shoot Klaus when he tumbled to the ground like an old sack of potatoes.

The confusing action made sense when one looked at Elijah who stood right behind Lucien, his gun's butt still cutting through air.

"You two have to go, right now," he pulled them out of their stupor. "Mikael could come back any second. The gunfire has died down and I'm sure there aren't many attackers to be taken care of. You have to hurry if you want to have a chance."

"Come with us, brother," Klaus offered. "Break out of your cage."

"I can't," he smiled sadly. "As much as I would want to, I can't leave mother, Kol and Rebekah alone with Mikael. I have to try and protect them, like I'm protecting you right now. Go!"

Both Klaus and Henrik had started to run out of the room, the first heavily supported by the other, when Klaus stopped in his tracks. This felt too much like a goodbye and he refused to accept that he would never see his brother again. The brother who'd protected him, when possible, from Mikael's wrath. The brother who'd patiently taught him how to read and instilled moral values when neither parent deigned it important enough. So he turned around one last time.

"I'll see you when I see you, brother," he offered with a sad smile. "Until then: always and forever."

"Always and forever," the first signs of sadness rasped through Elijah's composed façade, but he refused to break for fear it would slow them down which is why he remained still, watching them walk away, unsure if he would ever see them again.

His heart hoped he would, but his mind rebelled against the idea, understanding that if such came to happen it would be because Mikael found them.

 _Please, be safe, brothers,_ was his last thought. _Be safe and happy like you never could_ _here._

* * *

Months passed since the disastrous morning at the Mikaelson residence. Months in which Klaus struggled to make do with what little he had, working whatever odd job he could find just to support his younger brother finish the two months left of high-school, pay rent and most importantly, ensure they remained hidden from Mikael who had been canvassing the Earth for them.

The only thing working to their advantage was that never would Mikael have expected them to live in such a poor neighborhood so his tentacles hadn't reached them yet.

With a bit of luck, Henrik finished his studies and just the night after his graduation, as they both wondered what was next for them, a news bulletin changed everything.

The breaking news was of a new terrorist attack in a British airport that had resulted in more than forty deaths, but that wasn't what rattled Klaus so much. The true reason was the photograph of one of the perpetrators.

He recognized him.

It was one of the men he'd sold weapons to at Mikael's orders.

Forty-three people dead.

That innocent blood was as much on his hands as it was on Mikael's.

Too much.

That was too much guilt for his mind to take anymore.

How could his father arm terrorists? Did his greed and evilness truly have no qualms?

In a bid to hide his despair, Klaus ignored Henrik's concerned questions and locked himself in the bathroom, the only place in their small apartment where one could experience some privacy.

Bad idea because all he could focus on was the mirror reigning above the sink. More explicitly, on his reflection.

Pale skin. Purple circles running all the way to his cheekbones. Wrinkles that hadn't been there before and a look of pure misery.

Just a shadow of who he'd used to be.

But he couldn't let it show. For Henrik's sake he had to keep up appearances, however difficult it was.

Yet, he wanted, for just one moment to have someone with whom he could share all that was eating at him. All of the sins that weighed so heavily on his heart. A person who could understand and not judge, but not Henrik. He simply didn't have it in him to tell his younger brother just how insane Mikael truly was.

Again, he turned to look at his reflection only to find the faces of the people he'd murdered staring back. Taunting him.

Unable to cope with the sight of them, his fist spontaneously collided with the glass. A million shards exploded, some embedding themselves into his fist, but no pain reached him.

Klaus was numb to it all, welcoming the sight of blood seeping from his body. It was well-deserved and not a good enough punishment anyway. Not even death could be enough to compensate for all the bad he'd done.

Deaf to the real world, to Henrik's concerned screams; the older Mikaelson remained a prisoner of his own mind, feverishly searching for a way to compensate things. To try and make it right even though he knew that Mikael's depravity would not be stopped by anything other than his death.

Few possessed the abilities to end Mikael and even if Klaus might have been one of them, it was entirely too soon for more blood to stain his hands.

Terrorists. Groups like ISIS and Boko Haram relied on the supply Mikael gave them to expand their reign of terror. That fact was what really undid Klaus because those guys didn't mess around. Instead, they claimed hundreds, even thousands of lives every month.

How could one man fight against them?

The idea came out of nowhere. There actually existed people who risked their lives every day to help defeat those organizations.

It might be his only chance to make it right. At least to some degree.

A new sense of purpose guiding him, he negligently wrapped some toilet paper around his hand after having flushed out the glass and emerged from the room, dialing a number he hadn't thought he ever would again, continuing to ignore Henrik's fussing over his injury.

"Marcel," he greeted after the person had picked up. "It's me, Klaus. Can we meet up and talk?"

After having set up a time and place, Klaus turned back to look at his brother's annoyed face. Henrik had been the reason why he'd reached out to his most trusted old friend. After all, he'd need someone to look after him once he was gone.

"Now can you listen to me, brother?"

Klaus nodded and allowed Henrik to properly bandage his hand while their talked, satisfied that Marcel had agreed to see him even though the risks were high.

"They got him," a wide grin spread on his face, but it only confused Klaus. What was he talking about? "Father," his younger brother added upon sensing his concern. "I couldn't believe it either, but they slammed a RICO case on him and some of his people after catching them during a weapons delivery. It seems like he's looking at 15-20 years in prison."

Klaus couldn't believe his ears. How could he not have known?

Maybe, with his father behind bars, Henrik could go back and form a family again.

"Perhaps we can return home," his brother longingly said, tearing a hole into what was left of Klaus's heart.

 _You could, but I have chosen a different path,_ he kept from saying. "Let me speak with Marcel tomorrow, first," he delivered instead.

The meeting with his old friend did not end up as he'd expected. Indeed, Mikael was in police custody, but his criminal empire hadn't crumbled, the place at the top now occupied by none other than Finn Mikaelson who was proving to be just as cruel as his father.

Taking advantage of the confusion occurred when Mikael had been arrested, Marcel had managed to leave, along with Stefan, neither able to take much more of what they were forced to do.

"So where is he? Why hasn't he come with you?" Klaus wondered wishing to see another one of his friends. Even though their friendship had taken a hit in recent times, when Stefan seemed to be more on his father's and Finn's side than on his, Klaus couldn't help hoping to see him.

"We…" Marcel hesitated. "We parted ways shortly after you called," upon the dejected look he continued. "He's not coming. Ever."

"Why?"

The question had been so honest, it hurt Marcel to answer, but he had to and there was no way to soften the blow.

"That night," no explications were warranted to clear up what he was talking about. "It split us up in a way. Me, Kol, Elijah and Rebekah only hold Mikael responsible, but others…" he paused. "Others believe that had you only killed that detective none of this would have happened."

"You mean Finn, Stefan and Lucien, am I right?"

"I'm sorry, Klaus, but I feel like I should warn you that Lucien has sworn to get revenge for what happened to Aurora."

"He wants to kill me?"

"He's not the same," Marcel justified his affirmative shake of the head. "The idea of vengeance has him bordering on insanity, I'm afraid. Now, he's Finn's right hand man and leads the search party for you and Henrik."

Had this have happened yesterday, Klaus would have walked right into Lucien's traps, welcoming the end of his life with open arms. But now, with a new goal, Klaus realized there were more efficient ways to correct his errors and find peace.

In a few brief sentences, Klaus conveyed his plan to Marcel who happily agreed to take Henrik under his wing and help him become all he'd dreamed of.

Having decided, both headed to the apartment to share their intentions only to be met with a stronger resistance than expected.

"There is no way I am staying behind like some child," Henrik shouted for the third time. "I am coming with you brother!"

"Henrik, please, we are talking about war here. Actually going to a combat zone. Killing people if we have to."

"I am aware of that and I am willing to do it. I am no longer that brat who couldn't get anything done properly and who was afraid of his own shadow. I know of what you've done to protect me, brother. I've finally understood it now and I will not let you go there alone. We are staying together: forever and always."

Speechless.

Henrik had rendered both men speechless.

"Argue with that, Klaus," Marcel joked to ease the heavy mood, noticing how emotional Klaus had grown, shiny eyes blinking rapidly.

"I will only ask this one time, brother. Are you sure?"

Henrik acquiesced, engulfing him in an embrace, reiterating the idea that they would stick together forever.

"Thank you for your help anyway, Marcel," Klaus began only to be interrupted by a stern voice.

"Oh, no, if the kid is coming you can bet I am too."

Suddenly, there wasn't one joining the military, but three. And so they did unknowing that two of them would not be coming back and that they were happily marching to their own deaths.

* * *

The training proved to be harder than any man had expected, gruesome in a word, but all three persevered and in 10 months, they were all deployed in Syria as part of the same regiment.

Landing in that country, seeing the state it was in and, most importantly, how the people living there fared, put everything in a different perspective. The only thing that Klaus still hadn't shared with his younger brother was that the weapons ISIS used were probably delivered by none other than his father.

It was one piece of truth that Klaus would take to the grave if he could.

Mission after mission, all three started to embrace their new jobs, especially Klaus who felt like he was finally doing something to compensate the bad he'd done. The one thing neither could ever grow accustomed to was seeing innocents being slaughtered every day in senseless bombings or shootings.

Children.

Women.

Elder and disabled people.

Neither could be faulted for being born in Syria, yet they all suffered the grave consequences of it.

Even if neither one admitted it aloud, those atrocities haunted their every dream, leaving them emotionally crippled, feeling like they weren't doing enough.

Each time they went out, they all meaningfully glanced at one another, all too aware that this might be the last mission from which they all returned safe and sound.

Until then, luck had been on their side and their regiment had been relatively protected, only losing one member during an isolated shooting in Aleppo.

With less than 5 weeks until their tour ended, Klaus had started to hope, for the first time, that they might all make it out alive and perhaps, only perhaps, get another chance at life. Get a do-over.

He should have learned by now that hope was a dangerous feeling and it only existed to be squandered by a mocking God or Universe.

One morning, the sound of massive gunfire woke them all up. Their first instinct was to really survey their surroundings just in case it had been a figment of their minds.

It hadn't.

Aside from guns being fired every second, the all too familiar noise of a grenade going off followed by pained cries for help made it all real.

Their base was under attack, there was no doubt about it.

All three friends along with their two roommates put on their tactical gear in record time and grabbed the little ammunition they had before tramping into the raging war outside.

Just like every other time in his life before a tragedy, Klaus had a bad feeling. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that had been his companion through every tough time.

One would think that he would have learned to listen to his gut instinct after all he'd been through.

But by then, even if he'd wanted to say something, force Marcel and Henrik to go down the coward's route, it was already too late, the heavy thunder of bullets having split them up as they ran for cover.

The fighting went on for a long time, what was left of the American squad giving back with the same intensity as they received even though heavily outnumbered.

Suddenly, a stray bullet hit one of his teammates, a young boy the same age as Henrik who dropped his weapon while tumbling down, exiting cover at the same time.

The terrorists immediately jumped into action, eager to take advantage of the situation, but not shooting anymore at the terrified kid.

No, an American soldier was a very treasured prisoner and ISIS would fight tooth and nail to obtain him.

Before it happened, Klaus knew what his little brother was about to do and managed to scream out a frantic, "No!" that was drowned out by the explosions around him.

Then all hell broke loose.

Henrik tried to defend his companion, opened fire, keeping the enemy at bay while he made his way to Bradley, their fallen team member, and all seemed to go as planned until he ran out of bullets. With no time to reload, Henrik had no other option but to throw himself to the ground and hope he wouldn't be hit.

Seeing all this, Klaus decided to also throw caution to the wind, and jumped in to protect his brother. Miraculously, he succeeded in reaching them unscathed and was trying to drag the injured man back to cover when a stray bullet ruined their chances.

It embedded itself deep into his thigh, arterial blood splattering all over the resplendent sand, coloring it sickeningly rouge- patches of it extending all around them. The figurative cherry on top was the slow but steady loss of ground sustained by the soldiers who were being pushed to retreat and regroup. A more attentive look at their side revealed a crying Marcel being held back by their commanding officer and shoved into a Humvee along with all those who could be safely extracted.

They were being left behind, Klaus put two and two together.

Sure enough, the enemies approached them after the battle ceased; checking on Bradley to find he wasn't breathing and then their leader barked something in Arabic. As a consequence to whatever had been ordered, both Klaus and Henrik were tossed in the back of their trunk.

The second the engine was started, their keeper viciously slammed the back of his gun against both of their temples, leaving them unconscious and completely in the dark as to where they were being taken.

When Klaus came to again, he found himself hanging from a rusty pipe, handcuffs holding his hands so tightly that they'd started to turn a disgusting shade of light blue from proper lack of blood. As if that wasn't enough, he was propped up high enough so that his feet did not touch the ground, floating in the air as life-granting liquid slowly seeped from his thigh, the bleeding having slowed down a bit, but not come anywhere close to halting.

Feeling lightheaded, he tried to fight against his restraints, shaking the metal bar with as much strength as he possessed, but it didn't even budge.

"It's pointless to struggle, save your energy," the defeated voice of someone he knew perfectly well stopped him.

"Henrik," he immediately turned his head in his direction, stunned he'd forgotten that his youngster brother had been taken with him. "How long have I been out?"

"An hour, give or take since I've come to. They've checked on us regularly, waiting for you to wake up. I'm guessing we have less than 10 minutes until they return."

Their situation looked more and more gloom, especially in the way Henrik painted it. Furthermore, there was a resigned undertone that Klaus despised hidden there.

"We'll get out of here, I'll figure it out, I always do," he promised, but hated himself for not being sure he could keep his word. After all, tied like that, he was at the mercy of his captors. They both were. "Besides, they'll come looking for us, all we have to do is hold on."

"I'll try," Henrik somberly said.

Their peaceful moment didn't last for a tall, threatening, muscular man walked into the room, unable to hide his content smirk at seeing his other prisoner awake. Slamming the door behind him and yelling something in Arabic, Klaus did not need a translator to understand what he was saying,

He was calling his boss.

Said man came in less than a minute, looking just as satisfied, if not more at noticing his precious hostages awake.

"What do you want from us?" Klaus put all of his spite into that one question, but even then his voice cracked due to the physical and mental strain he was under.

"Information," the boss responded in broken English. "If you cooperate things will be pretty easy on all of us. We'll even grant you relatively painless deaths."

So this was it, then.

Become a traitor or be slowly bled out.

If he had been alone, the choice would have been obvious, but Henrik changed everything and he found himself hesitating.

"We're not telling you a damned thing!" Henrik was the fastest to react, his resilient nature making Klaus proud.

Henrik truly had grown to be a valient, strong man who never sacrificed his values for his own benefit. It was truly admirable, but not really a quality in this situation. Nevertheless, it motivated him not to give in as well.

"Oh, but you will. They all do," the leader pointed at his subordinate who headed in Klaus's direction, a lead tube clutched in his hand.

"Last chance, will you talk?" the blunt object hovered just above Klaus's injury making it clear that he would be the target for now. After all, he must have seemed like the most breakable one in these conditions.

"Never," Klaus threw back, bracing himself for what was to come.

And it most certainly did because the man did not stop at one or two hits. No, he bashed him until he felt the bones in his leg snap and then he moved onto his ribs until a few of them gave out as well. His shouts of pain that he could no longer keep in reverberated all across the hidden base and they had Henrik sobbing.

 _Just hold on. Just hold on_ , the word kept repeating in Klaus's head at every single hit.

"Stop," the leader ordered. "This isn't working. A few more minutes of this and we'll have a corpse on our hands. How about we change things up?" he beckoned at Henrik, making his intentions clear.

"No!" Klaus still managed to scream out, the veil of pain lifting from his eyes, clarity having returned at only the prospect of more harm coming to his brother. "Leave him alone! I can take more, come on and show me what you're capable of!"

"No!" Henrik yelled even louder. "He's suffered enough. If you want to have your fun, don't go torturing someone half dead. Choose someone who can bear it!"

"How touching!" the English-speaking ISIS member chuckled. "You are both willing to sacrifice for each other," his eyes narrowed on their nametags. "Are you brothers?" At having received no answer, he deduced on his own that his assumption was correct. "Tell you what, I'm feeling generous today," he brandished a knife and without further warning, slashed Klaus's torso wide open almost deep enough for his bowels to come out.

Then, he did the same to Henrik, cackling at how Klaus, in spite of his significant injuries, pounded on his restraints as his brother's abdomen was dissected in two, his pained whimper cutting him deeper than anything these people could do to him.

"It's quite easy, actually. The first one who tells me what I need to know gets to walk out of here alive. I'll give you a moment to consider it," and he strode out along with his man.

No sooner had they been left alone than Klaus spoke. "You have…" he swallowed hard to keep another groan at bay, "You have to tell them what they need to know, Henrik."

"No."

One word angered him more than anything his brother had ever said or done. He was throwing his chance at life away.

"What do you mean by no? You must!"

"No," Henrik heavily heaved, hurt clear in his features. "Think about it, brother, even if I tell them everything they wish, what guarantee do I have that I'll make it out of here? What if this is all a play to get us to do as they wish?"

However loathe he was to admit, the youngest Mikaelson had a point, but was missing a crucial part of their predicament.

"Even if it is, Henrik, we're not going to get a better chance. At least this way, one of us has hope of getting out."

"Then you do it. I don't understand why it must be me."

Was this kid for real? How could he even ask that when the answer was clear: Henrik was light, he was salvation, hope while Klaus was darkness, destruction and death.

"Henrik, if I started to tell you my entire list of sins condemning me to an even worse death, we would both bleed out before I was even halfway through. Who takes the deal is not up for discussion. It's either you or none of us."

"Then it shall be none, brother because I cannot fathom life at the cost of your own. That would be nothing but pure torture."

Just as Klaus was about to argue further, their captors returned. "Have you made up your mind?" he was fixating Klaus who chose to lower his head in disappointment of the outcome.

"We'll die before making any deal with you," declared Henrik to Klaus's utter frustration.

"That's a shame," a sinister glare replaced the one that had been meant to appear benevolent. "But I can't force you to accept a good deal. What I can do is make you face the consequences of your refusal."

Without further warning, the man took out his blade for the second time that day and effortlessly slashed Henrik's throat. Apparently, he'd been the one to most piss him off with his insubordination. Klaus was left motionless, watching teary-eyed as his brother gurgled on his own blood, incoherently forming some words addressed to Klaus.

The tied man watched his struggle with tears streaming down his face. His brother, his reason for getting out of bed in the morning was slowly losing his fight, choking down on crimson, liquid copper.

Henrik's features slowly relaxed as he stopped his strife, mouthing a few words that would never leave Klaus. The words he'd never said to anybody.

 _I love you._

As he mouthed them back, Klaus swore he would never say them again. Henrik was the only one worthy and should he by some miracle live, never would anybody appear who could make him wish to say them. Of that he was sure.

Then, all movement ceased all together as Henrik's chest stopped rising and falling, a clear indication of the most cruel fate having befallen his brother.

Death.

And if Klaus stopped to think about it, he was the one to blame for he'd been stubborn and insisted on joining the military to ease his troubled soul.

Now, he'd managed to add another body to his conscience and this one weighed more than any other.

Nothing he could do would ever alleviate it, ease the pain.

As a matter of fact, it was exactly the same for him if he lived or die so his heart didn't flutter when the man came near, about to do the same as he'd done to Henrik, nor did it skip at the sound of guns blazing.

The cavalry had come, to save them, but it was too little too late. The only one who mattered had already passed away and Klaus allowed his tired body to welcome darkness, the outcome leaving him more than indifferent.

Actually, if he really thought about it, there was one thing he wanted: for a misfired bullet to put him out of his misery. He wanted to join his brother although he doubted they were headed to the same place, if an afterlife existed at all.

Still, even if Hell's tortures awaited him at the end of the line, Earth held nothing better. In fact, the latter seemed worse, being cursed to wake up every day knowing he was alive while other people, better, innocent people had unfairly died.

His wish was not granted, though, because a higher force had a different plan for him. He was to go down a road that could either lead to destruction or salvation, depending on the steps he took. On the people he chose to let in.

One person in particular had the potential to either make or break him.

Only callous time would be able to show which.

* * *

 **A/N: Firstly, I would like to apologize for the delay in updating, but like I promised you guys, I am not planning on giving up on this story, as long as you'll keep enjoying it. I tried to update a few days ago, but the site simply would not let me so I am sorry for that extra delay as well and for any confusion that might have caused.**

 **Now, this was a reaaally long chapter and I'm sorry if it was too much for some of you, but it was like it had a mind of its own and it simply felt wrong to separate it in halves, although its length was also a reason behind my delay in updating. After this chapter, you've all gotten a complete look at Klaus's past and the reasons why he's so broken and I hope you found it a good enough backstory. In the following chapter, we'll go back to Caroline and Klaus and continue to watch their story unravel.**

 **Once again, I wish you liked this chapter and please, if you have the time, let me know what you thought of it. After all, any kind of feelback: review/ favourite/ follow means the world to me and motivate me to get the next chapter out faster and make it better for all those who still stick by it. Thank you very much and please review if you can!**


	15. Chapter 15

_Murderer._

The word hollowly echoed in her ears, heart pounding as she tried to wrap her brain around it.

 _Murderer._

No, there must have been a misunderstanding. Perhaps she'd heard wrong, the woman tried to reason.

"What did you just say, Stefan?" Caroline asked, full of hope that it had been a figment of her weary mind.

"Klaus Mikaelson is a murderer, Caroline."

The way he spoke was as if he took great pleasure in ruining her life once more. Tears of confusion and disbelief had already started to make their presence known, but the surgeon did not care. Stefan had seen his fair share of her crying for it to matter anymore. Not when the happiness she'd thought she'd found was inches away from being shattered. By Stefan. Again.

"No, you're lying," she weakly protested. "All your life, you've done nothing but deceive me. Why should I believe that this is any different?"

"It's the truth, Caroline. I swear. The Klaus Mikaelson I knew back in the day was a monster. He killed innocent people, tortured them, set their houses on fire, dealt weapons to gangs and terrorists."

The first warm droplet fell on its own accord down her cheek as the woman took in the words her former fiancée was spewing with such hate. The man he was depicting was nothing like the one she had met. Like the one she'd fallen in love with. It couldn't be true and if it hadn't been for Klaus constantly telling her that he was a despicable human being, Caroline wouldn't have given the Salvatore any credit.

But doubt had begun to fester and she could no longer turn her back on it. Sure, she'd seen Klaus's dark side, like when he'd almost killed Lucien Castle, but that had been to defend her. Her assailant had been anything but good and the woman had been able to understand and accept it. Sometimes, good people were forced by circumstances to do bad, but necessary things.

However, what Stefan was saying reached a whole new level. One she was almost sure she could never overcome.

So she had to cling onto the hope that maybe this was only jealously and hatred speaking. Otherwise, she would completely lose it.

Caroline shook her head as a stronger wave of unstoppable tears rolled down her face. "The Klaus I know is someone who went to war, who risked his own life fighting to make Syria a better place. He's someone who listens to what I long for in ways you never did throughout our relationship. Someone kind, who would teach a young girl he's just met how to swim. He's damaged, sure," flashes of his scars passed before her eyes. "But he's not the psychopath you're describing. He can't be."

Stefan's eyebrows furrowed momentarily at her lack of belief in his statements, but how could she trust the man who'd so vilely deceived her? Then, out of the blue, a smug smirk contorted his features.

"If you don't believe me, ask him, Caroline," he pointed towards the woman's back. "Let's see if he has the nerve to deny my words to keep up this façade he's built."

In her desperate, hurried turn, the blonde tripped over her heels and nearly fell, her shaking body barely managing to stay upright. As expected, Klaus was standing a few feet away from her, lines marring his forehead while his fists were so tightly clenched his knuckles had gone white.

"Is it true?" Caroline whispered barely audibly as her voice cracked.

The silence that met her was a clear enough answer. It meant her world had effectively crumbled, her heart shredded once more. Still, she stood her ground, waiting for actual words to confirm it. "Answer me, god damn it!"

He did in the form of an anguished, "Yes," that served to carve her heart out of her chest.

The one guy she'd fallen for had turned out to be a murderer.

 _Murderer._

Suddenly, her entire body felt cold, frozen to the core as uncontrollable sobs wrecked it. The images her eyes were seeing were a blurry mix of silhouettes dancing in the poor lighting, but that tall one was unmistakable even in these conditions.

Klaus. The man she'd believed to be the love of her life, her knight in shining armor, the one who'd slowly put her back together after Stefan had thoroughly destroyed her. Now, the Mikaelson had finished ruining her. Done a perfectly good job at that, too.

Unsteadily, Caroline went to leave the room, keeping her jade eyes glued to the floor as she passed by Klaus, not meaning to even spare him a glance.

Suddenly, a clammy hand clamped down on hers. Long, lean, strong fingers that she would never forget. Never forget how their light touch caressed her skin, soothing her, bringing her back to life when they entangled in her curls, moving in synch with their united lips.

"Caroline, please hear me out," he sounded so broken, pleading like she'd never heard him before. Everything inside of her wanted to comply, but she simply couldn't.

"Let go, Klaus," the words caught in her throat as more and more tears leaked out of her orbs, effectively blinding her. She hated how she croaked and how utterly unconvincing it had sounded, but how could she infuse her voice with a conviction she lacked?

"Please, let me explain some of what you've just heard," he sounded desperate.

"Explain?" her pitch climbed a few octaves. "What is there left to explain? God! I fell for you. I would've done anything for you and you didn't deign it important enough to tell me the small detail of you torturing people for sport?"

"It's truly not like that," Klaus weakly tried to stand up for himself. "And I did try to tell you, but you wouldn't allow it."

At that, Caroline started to cackle like a maniac through her whimpers. He actually had the audacity to act like this was her fault. "Yes, I stopped you because I thought what you kept bottled up was another story about war or maybe a dysfunctional family or abusive father or something like that. Never did it cross my mind that the man I slept next to was a sadistic killer!"

Klaus flinched at the harshness of her screams. She acted like she hated him and he knew he deserved it, but it still hurt. This rejection hurt more than he ever thought it would. More so because Stefan had given her a distorted version of events that left the Salvatore completely out.

"Five minutes, Caroline, that's all I'm asking for. After that, I'll be gone for good. You'll never see me again."

All fight completely abandoned her body at the resignation behind those words. Gone was the fighter she'd known before, replaced by a shadow of who he used to be. A defeated ghost.

"I…" her eyes travelled down to their entwined hands, a shiver still coursing through her veins at his mere touch. "I can't. Not right now, at least. Just let me go."

Unable to cause her any more hurt and suffering, the man's fingers limply dropped to his side, words hanging on his tongue, longing to be said, but if what Caroline needed right now was to put distance between them, he would grant her that even if it tore down whatever was left of him.

It wasn't like he was worthy of someone like her anyway. All he would bring her was even more heartache like tonight. Perhaps this was for the best.

Once free, the blonde spent a few more seconds staring straight at the man she continued to love in spite of all she'd found out. She still yearned for his comforting touch, for his protectiveness over her and her body still craved his kisses- the kisses of a cold-blooded assassin.

What did that make her?

This was too much. The throbbing in her head was nothing compared to her aching, bleeding heart.

So she ran. Ran as fast as her heels allowed it, out of the restaurant, ignoring the worried looks other customers threw her and entirely missing Valerie's content smile as she watched the broken woman stumble to the hotel.

* * *

Seeing Caroline walk away from his life, probably for good could only pale when compared to watching Henrik and Marcel die and knowing it had been his fault. The doctor had slowly grown to be the one ray of hope in his wretched life and now it was gone. The only person who'd made him feel human again had been torn apart from him.

A new wave of anger engulfed him and he had to close his eyes, inhaling deeply while counting to 10 to keep from running after her and force her to listen to his explanation.

He was all too aware that he was a murderer, but it hadn't been by choice and he most certainly hadn't enjoyed it like Stefan had made it seem.

In that precise moment, he was reminded of the man standing in front of him. His former friend was among the few people Klaus had cared about, but also one of the ones who'd hurt him most.

"Were you really delusional enough to think that Caroline of all people would accept your red ledger?" Stefan mockingly quipped. "She's too good for you and I'm glad she finally got it."

"Stefan," warning laced his voice as his fists tightened even more, blood starting to seep from where his nails were digging into skin. It was taking every ounce of self-control he possessed not to pounce on him. He was doing it out of respect for the bond they used to have. Apparently he was the only one who still cared, though.

"What's the matter, Klaus? Are you going to let the monster out to play? Because I know it is still in there, regardless of how you try to hide it."

"Perhaps, but we both know that you've got secrets Caroline and all of the others don't know. I was there, Stefan. You may not have pulled the trigger, but you most certainly did nothing to stop me. We've both committed atrocities and I might be the only one who has physically ended a life, but morally you are just as guilty as me."

That seemed to hit its mark straight in the centre as some of the Salvatore's confidence plummeted. No, Klaus was wrong, had to be wrong. Not once had he even come close to taking a life and there had been nothing Stefan could have done to prevent Mikael's wishes from becoming real. Besides, Klaus was the one who brought death to all those around him.

"No," Stefan shook his head. "That's not true. You're the only responsible for Henrik and Marcel's deaths. They died because they refused to abandon you. And what about Aurora? She truly was innocent. Her passing wrecked Lucien. Our friend nearly went insane because of you. Everyone who cares about you dies and I could not allow that fate to befall Caroline."

"You might be right about it being my fault," Klaus welcomed the accusations since they were only voicing what he thought himself. "But if I were you I would not treat Lucien as a victim. He's anything but."

"Really, Klaus? Are you really going down the road of blaming the sufferer?"

Tempers were flaring fast, both men barely in control of their raging emotions, neither willing to accept the other's point of view or come to grips with the flaws in their own judgment.

"Lucien should have just killed you in New Orleans," contempt shone in Stefan's hazel eyes, but Klaus could not be bothered by it. His mind was stuck on the implications of what had just been uttered.

"What did you just say?" he asked just to be sure, hoping he'd heard wrong.

"It's the truth, Klaus. You would have deserved it. I can't, for the life of me, understand why he let you go."

It couldn't be. If what he was thinking turned out to be true, it would be the proverbial nail in Klaus's coffin. That betrayal might just be too much for his already troubled mental state. Especially combined with Caroline's departure. It might unleash the darkness he'd kept locked away for so long.

"How do you know about that, Stefan?" he talked slowly and deliberately, trying to keep in check.

The Salvatore's orbs narrowed as he correctly read between the lines, understanding that there was more than met the eye here. "I told him where to find you," sincerity poured out of the confused man.

It was enough to open the demon's cage.

With something akin to primal rage, Klaus pounced on him, hand pressing down on his neck, nearly crushing his trachea with strength fueled by his fiery fury. "Wha…" Stefan struggled to speak, but could not put together more than three letters before he ran out of air.

Yet the Mikaelson knew perfectly well what he'd been meaning to ask and responded anyway. "Lucien, that poor guy you were singing odes to, that nice person that you say I destroyed killed an innocent woman in New Orleans. Carved her up like a piece of meat and left her to bleed out on the street naked. All because she spoke to me, because I smiled when I looked at her, because I was starting to feel something for her."

Stefan's ears could not believe what they were hearing. If it was true, and he genuinely had no reason to doubt it, then he was partly to blame for it.

"He nearly killed Caroline, too," Klaus's grip tightened on his windpipe at the mention of the suffering Caroline had most likely experienced. "Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you on the spot?"

Although it had been more of a rhetorical question, the oldest man's vice weakened just a fraction, making room for some air to enter Stefan's lungs. "She'll… never forgive you if you do," he croaked while heavily panting.

His argument was actually a viable one he'd taken into consideration, but Camille had been vilely assassinated because of Stefan Salvatore and Klaus wasn't sure he could overlook that. Not like he was sure Caroline would forgive him even if he turned his back on revenge for her, either.

That in mind, he started to apply more and more pressure, feeling the neck viscera start to mold into his hands, contracting desperately as he squeezed, attempting to draw in some oxygen. Pale as a sheet, the Salvatore could only stare into those troubled ocean eyes and pray for mercy.

Having almost passed out, tethering on the edge of consciousness, Stefan was fully aware his end was near. Seconds and it would all be over.

On the other side of the poetic battle ring, Klaus found himself relishing in finally exacting some punishment for the harm which had fallen on Camille and also Caroline.

 _Caroline_.

The mere mention of her name, even as a conjuring of his mind, served to give him pause. Sure, he was mostly doing this for retribution on her behalf, but would she really forgive him killing Stefan? The answer was crystal clear: not in a million years.

Absurdly, that weighed more than his vengeance. Once more, his feelings for the blonde were enough to stay his hand. Glancing at the nearly blue Stefan, anger still simmering beneath the surface, Klaus fought to pull away. To lock the monster back in its cage, but its thirst for blood was too much and it had to be sated.

Unfortunately, he couldn't accomplish that with Stefan. Using all self-control he knew he had and drawing from hidden reserves, his chokehold started to loosen. A frenzied roar escaped his lips and he let the man slip through his fingertips, nerves still flayed and pushed well beyond their limit.

Watching his former friend crawl away, massaging his neck and gulping greedy mouthfuls of air did nothing to help calm him down. Accomplished quite the opposite, actually. His fist clenched once more, longing to feel the familiar sensation of bone crushing under its assault. When he was this wound up, Klaus knew he wouldn't rest until his appetite for violence had been satisfied.

The collision was unexpected and it left Stefan flinching, moving even further away from the maddened man as the sound resonated across the hallway. Klaus's clenched hand had viciously crashed with the nearby wall, leaving a literal dent in it as pecks of blood painted the once beige drywall.

Splitting pain erupted from his fingers, but a gentle flex proved that his effort had unfortunately been unsuccessful in actually inflicting some real damage. Unable to stand the pitiful sight of Stefan lying on the floor and unsure of his self-control, Klaus made to leave the restaurant when a raspy voice stopped him.

"I'm sorry…" Stefan murmured. "I honestly didn't know Lucien was that far gone."

An apology. A feeble, weak, good for nothing apology. Somewhere behind it hid the man Klaus had once considered friend, but now, with all he knew, the only thing that could ever exist between them was hatred and resentment.

"That means nothing to me and it certainly can't bring the dead back to life. Don't ever speak to me again, Stefan because if you do, I don't respond for my actions."

Leaving him alive was the only courtesy Klaus would grant and Stefan should be grateful. After all, the evil monster he'd described to Caroline wouldn't have had any qualms about killing the Salvatore.

 _Caroline._

She was way more important than this and the man couldn't allow things to end like this.

No, he would give it one more try. One more try to get her to listen to his story. Hear the real events and although he was sure she would still want him out of her life, at least she wouldn't think of him as insane.

After all, his sanity was one of the few things Mikael hadn't taken away from him.

* * *

By sheer luck Caroline had managed to reach her hotel room safely and without running into anybody familiar. Honestly, she wouldn't have been able to take it. Tears had not ceased, their flow probably getting stronger and stronger with each second that passed by.

Seconds in which Klaus's betrayal and lies sunk in deeper and deeper.

How could he have lied to her? More importantly, how could her assessment of his character have been so very wrong? Shaking, she barely unlocked the door, not minding a cleaning lady's question regarding her welfare.

What could she have answered anyway?

As soon as she entered the room, she was hit with undeniable proof of Klaus's presence there- the one thing she wanted to forget.

Black worn-down leather jacket.

Thin white t-shirt.

Even the bottle of water he'd carelessly thrown across the bed.

They all screamed his name.

Emerald landed on a piece of paper she'd placed on the nightstand beside her head, knowing fully well what it was. His drawing of her.

The memories it brought back seemed so vivid, yet so far out of reach. Lost forever. That thought was enough to tip her breaking point. The onslaught of emotions they awoke was so much stronger than even her ability to keep standing. Slowly, weak knees buckling, Caroline collapsed against the wooden door, buried her face in her trembling hands and wept.

Wept for what had been. Wept for what she'd been told. And most importantly, wept for what could have been.

Watching your illusions crumble was so hard and having it happen twice was nearly insurmountable.

Klaus's broken image as he confirmed Stefan's words haunted her every breath. He had looked so vulnerable, raw emotions bubbling beneath the surface. So different from what he'd admitted to being. She would have given anything for it to be a disgusting lie that her ex-fiancée had made up, but one word had proven it to be true.

A timid knock, halted her destructive thoughts, making room for confusion as to who could come at this late hour.

Wiping at the tracks on her face in an attempt to look as together as possible for whomever it was, Caroling swallowed back the lump in her throat, stood up and opened.

Nothing could have prepared her for the person posted before her or for the way her heart traitorously skipped upon laying eyes on him.

A disheveled Klaus Mikaelson hovered inches away from her door step, clothes infinitely more wrinkled than how she'd left him. At closer inspection, from his right hand crimson liquid slowly seeped out, the skin badly broken, knuckles swollen.

As if he'd been in a fight.

"I…" his eyes searched for hers, but Caroline avoided them to the best of her ability, focusing on a coffee stain on the turquoise mat. "I came to pick up the rest of my belongings. Can I come in?"

Her brain screamed to send him flying, that he was dangerous, most likely insane. Meanwhile, her heart yelled to allow him to enter, hear him out like he'd pleaded at the restaurant.

One of the toughest decisions she'd made in her life and Caroline was all too aware that it had the potential to shape her future. Biting her lip, she made believe that she was still weighing her options, when, in fact, she'd already chosen.

Wordlessly, she took a step back and nodded for him to enter.

"Thank you," he whispered while passing her by and then began to gather the few things he had scattered around the room, shoving them in his small duffle bag.

A small flinch filled the silence when Klaus, by mistake, hit his injured hand on an open drawer. Not really bothered by it, the man continued his mission, determined to get it done as quickly as possible.

Before he'd arrived here, he'd been meaning to try and clarify things with Caroline, try to get his own version of events out, but one glance at the blonde had been enough to shut him up.

Broken.

That was the perfect word to describe how the woman looked with her puffy, red eyes, pale skin and matted down hair. The usual sparkle in her orbs had disappeared, replaced by an emptiness he loathed.

Because of him.

This is what he did to those he loved. This was his curse. So he had to stay away.

"What happened?" her words were gravelly, clearly from too much crying, but by the way she was staring at his bleeding hand, it was obvious what she was referring to.

"I got into a bit of a fight."

His response was honest and it had her eyes widening, fear surging to new levels as she contemplated his answer.

"With Stefan?"

Klaus hated how unsure she sounded. As if she was afraid of him. To be fair, she probably was scared of what the creature she'd found out resided within him could do. A valid fear except that he'd never allowed that darkness to overpower his will and he probably never would even if, not feeling anything sometimes seemed like such a better option. Continuing to fight hurt so much, but he pushed on due to the people who'd given their lives for him. He could not throw their sacrifices away.

"Don't worry, he's fine. I didn't kill him if that's what you're asking," he bitterly threw back.

"I…" she wanted to tell him that it hadn't crossed her mind to believe him capable of such an act when, to her stupor, the surgeon recognized that she had indeed doubted the younger Salvatore's health. For just a moment.

But that moment stood for her lack of trust in Klaus Mikaelson.

While she remained there like a crumbling statue, the former soldier finished packing up and was already moving towards the door. Leaving for good, this time.

On one hand, she wanted him gone. Knew that she could never be with a torturer, a _murderer_. On the other hand, though, every fiber of her being screamed for her to stop him. To listen to whatever he'd meant to say at the restaurant. It had seemed as if he'd wanted to defend himself back there.

So why was he keeping quiet now? Why was he saying goodbye without having fought the final battle? Could it be that Stefan had truly said nothing but the truth?

"Klaus, wait!"

He halted, but did not turn around. The power he'd summoned to abandon Caroline was wavering and if he saw her face, he knew it would be over and that he would never be able to walk away.

She deserved better.

Deserved a man whose conscience was immaculate, a man that did not try to choke her in his sleep, a man who did not have an army led by one of the biggest criminals after him.

Today had been a slap across the face, a wake-up call to remind him to do the right thing: walk away.

The woman watched, hoping that he'd have some explanation to offer, that he'd fight for her like he'd done at the restaurant. He did none of those things, not even deigning her worthy of looking in the eye.

"Take care of yourself," she finally murmured when he remained quiet, feeling her heart finish shattering as he shut the door behind him.

He hadn't even cared enough to bid her farewell, Caroline noted dejected while taking in the hotel room.

Empty.

It looked so much emptier without those small pieces of Klaus Mikaelson scattered across it. Then, on her nightstand, her gaze landed on the familiar scrap of paper.

The drawing.

He'd left it here.

The only evidence confirming what they'd had was real.

Warmth travelled back to her eyes and for the umpteenth time that night, the woman found herself coming apart. It felt like her soul had been splintered and Klaus had taken off with all of the pieces. How could one feel utterly empty but also deeply ruined at the same time?

Another round of heavy hitting across the door announced someone else's presence, but all Caroline could imagine was that Klaus was back.

That he had returned to set the record straight and make his innocence clear, prove that Stefan had been lying. Demonstrate that he was indeed the man she'd fallen in love with and not a distorted, cruel version of him.

All but running for the door, the blonde slammed it open only to have her dreams evaporate when she landed eyes on the small, slender silhouette in front of her. Disappointment washed over her like a tidal wave.

Liz Forbes stood planted inches away from the woman, wide grin on her lips, but Caroline did not even seem to notice for she was too busy pushing past her mother, to check the hallway, continuing to hope against all common sense that Klaus had felt some of what she'd experienced. Hope that a torn Klaus hadn't effectively walked away from her life, but was waiting there, measuring words and trying to find proper ones to set the record straight.

Of course he wasn't there.

"Caroline, what's wrong?" a panicked Liz questioned, checking the empty corridor as well. "Who are you looking for?"

Desperate, teary orbs darted back and forth once more, before resignation sunk in.

"No one, mum," she walked back to the bed. "No one."

He was gone. This time for good.

This departure hurt on so many levels, but most importantly, it hurt because it was a blatant admission of guilt. Everything Stefan had said was true, otherwise Klaus would have stayed and tried to make it right because he cared for her. That much she was sure of. Nobody could have faked all of the emotions plaguing his face as she walked away at the restaurant, nor act that crushed.

However, if he'd really done all of that, there was no world in which Caroline could live with him, sleep in the same bed as him and not be haunted by images of all the wrong he'd wrought upon innocents. To her stupor, Caroline realized that there was nothing more she wanted than for Klaus Mikaelson to genuinely become 'no one' in her life.

With time, perhaps he would fade to a distant flashback. One more regret. Her biggest.

Unconsciously, her steps guided her to the only souvenir Klaus had left her with. The one thing that proved it hadn't all been an exquisite dream which had slowly morphed into a nightmare. It had been real and the heartbreak he'd left her with was even more real.

"Caroline, you're scaring me, what's going on?" Liz risked looking over her daughter's shoulder at the paper she so tightly held. It was an outstanding drawing of Caroline, perfectly capturing the warmth her eyes usually radiated and her welcoming, blissful smile.

Nothing like the shattered being before her.

"It's…" the blonde choked on a barely restrained sob. Words failed her and she couldn't express how she felt. Nothing could describe it. So she collapsed in her mother's open arms, completely letting go and welcoming the comfort Liz offered.

They stayed like that, in the centre of the room, the sketch held tightly to Caroline's chest, close to her heart and, somehow, she felt Klaus closer to her as well even if she knew that would never come to pass again.

After she'd run out of tears, the elder woman gently guided her to bed, heart breaking as well at seeing her daughter so messed up.

"I'm going to grab you a glass of water," Liz declared once a nearly catatonic Caroline settled into the geese-feathered pillows.

Had Caroline been paying more attention to anything but the elegant, neat pencil marks, she would have seen Liz falter slightly as she made her way towards the fridge. She would have seen the woman grab onto the table to steady herself.

But she was a prisoner of her own mind, trapped between flashes of her and Klaus happy by the beach, falling asleep in his arms, their date at Cirque du Soleil and how her treacherous heart believed the story could have gone.

 _Smash!_

The sound immediately snapped her out of her reverie, drawing her back to the present. At first, she could not understand what the source of the noise had been, but once she risked a look to the floor, Caroline found herself wishing to go back to that safe place her brain had conjured for her.

Liz Forbes was lying in the middle of the room, shrouded by an aura of broken glass, eyes glazed over as violent convulsions rocked her slender figure. Immediately the medic in her kicked in, all past grievances forgotten, as she jumped off the bed and knelt at her mother's side.

A seizure.

She'd seen her fair share of them and the woman shuddered at only thinking of possible underlying causes. That would be determined at a later hour. Her mission for now was to prevent further damage.

Hundreds of shards of glass had scattered all over the carpet, some millimeters away from Liz's head and with the furious way the woman's body was shaking, they were an imminent danger. With her bare hands, Caroline pushed them all away, not even sensing pain as some cut deeply through her skin, leaving them a mangled mess.

All that mattered was her mother's wellbeing.

Then, gently, she tried to cushion Liz's head from further impact against the hard flooring, making a protective barrier of her hands between the two, all the while counting the duration of the seizure knowing it was important.

After a minute and 47 seconds, the spasms ceased, her exhausted mother falling into a peaceful slumber. Not wasting another moment, Caroline ran for the phone, barking at the receptionist to send an ambulance as quickly as possible to her room.

Afterwards, the young woman returned to her mother's side, not even noticing how her hands continuously dripped crimson and cradling Liz's head, Caroline started to cry again.

Only this time, her argument with Klaus seamed meager, insignificant. For the first time in her life, Caroline despised being a doctor because she knew how serious what had just transpired was. She could not delude herself with unfounded beliefs that everything was going to be alright. Especially after remembering Liz nearly fainting in Klaus's arms before, a callous diagnosis was starting to inhabit her mind.

With it, fury also grew, Caroline downright seething at herself for not having insisted on a check-up. After all, any illness, no matter how severe, had a better chance at being cured if it was caught early.

In record intervention time, a medical team arrived, immediately focusing on the passed out woman, taking her vitals before lifting her onto a stretcher, the blonde surveying their every move like a hawk, ready to step in if something was not done properly, but everything was immaculate.

As she was following them out, a polite, young nurse offered to take a look at her hands, only to be rudely dismissed by the worried woman who couldn't be bothered to care about her own health. No, all that mattered was that Liz be fine.

 _Please, God, I'm begging you for this not to be what I think it is. Please,_ was the phrase she kept repeating over and over as she climbed into the back of the ambulance. All the way to the hospital, Caroline prayed like she never had all of her life.

Prayed for a miracle.

A miracle that seemed less and less likely with every second that Liz spent unconscious.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much to every single person who took the time to leave a review, it meant the world to me! Also, I would like to thank the people who added my story to their follow/favourite list! The fact that you guys are still enjoying it is the only motivation I need to keep trying to squeeze writing it into my hectic schedule, but like I promised you, as long as you'll keep enjoying it, I will not abandon it, although the chapters might take a little long. Med school exams are coming and I have been studying like crazy these last couple of weeks as to not fail.**

 **Now, I hope you liked this chapter even if it was quite sad. Unfortunately, the heartbreak is far from being over for our favourite couple, but as long as they can find a way back together, they will overcome all life still has to throw at them. If you have time, please let me know what you thought of this chapter.**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I would like to start this chapter by profoundly apologising for the extremely long delay in update. I failed my exam and I had to study like crazy, for like 12 hours a day to be able to pass and when I was done studying I was simply too tired to write and the words simply weren't coming out right and I had to start over like 15 times. I know it's not really an excuse, but I am truly sorry. Now, for anyone still reading this story, I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for not giving up on me. I also would like to promise you that I am definitely not going to give up on this story as long as you guys are still reading and enjoying it.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter and, if you have the time, let me know what you thought of it.**

 **I'm sorry and thank you once again!**

* * *

Waiting.

That was all Caroline had been doing for the past 3 hours as the doctors ran test upon test on her mother.

Praying.

It hadn't ceased since the ability to think coherently had returned to her. She'd prayed like a madwoman when she'd never done it before. She'd prayed for a miracle.

Burying her head in her bandaged hands-a nurse had practically forced her to have them taken care of- the blonde allowed a fresh wave of tears to escape her eyes as she struggled not to completely fall apart. Her mother would need her to be strong. But being strong was so hard when it felt like someone had ripped your heart out and shredded it to tiny, little pieces right in front of you. It was especially hard when all she wanted to do was curl up in a corner and cry. Thankfully, she was alone, with no one to witness her stellar breakdown.

Alone.

It was both a blessing and a curse. However, the one person who could bring a semblance of comfort had walked away for good, making it perfectly clear that he had no intention of fighting for her. So, even if it was killing her, Caroline would not call him. Why would she call a murderer? Because that's what he was, right? He hadn't bothered to refute the fact even though it went against everything she'd previously seen of him. However, none of that even mattered. She'd gladly give up love only so her mother would live. If that was a bargain she could strike with whatever cruel master puppeteer was up there, she would do it without hesitation. No sacrifice was too big for Liz's wellbeing.

God, if her assumptions were real, if her mother's diagnosis reflected her thoughts, Caroline wasn't sure she would be able to keep going after that as well. It was too much. Too much and she honestly couldn't take it anymore. Where had she gone wrong in life? What mistakes was she paying for?

Time went by excruciatingly slow, a text from Elena announcing that they'd just heard about Liz's seizure and that they were on the way, being the only interruption from her destructive thoughts.

Finally, Harry, a former classmate of Caroline's from medical school, stepped through the doors, heading directly towards the blonde who'd immediately stood up. The doctor hadn't changed much since their University years: same raven hair that stopped right above his shoulders, same expressive emerald eyes, but most importantly, his feelings still shone on his face, the man unable to cloak anything he was experiencing.

He was one hell of a doctor and relief had flooded Caroline's bones as she'd come upon him. However, after seeing the grim expression, pursed lips and wrinkles on his usually flawless forehead, the woman felt her muscles tense.

She knew. She knew what he was going to say before he even began speaking in that raspy voice of his.

"Caroline, I…" he bit his lip, hesitating.

"Just say it, Harry," she felt a tear roll down her cheek. "I think I already know, but I need you to say it. That's the only way it will become real."

Heaving a sigh, the man did as asked, hating himself for having to be the one to break the news. Caroline had been a good friend of his throughout school and he would have given anything for fate not to have put him in this position.

"It's a brain tumor," he stopped at her sharp intake of air, giving her a few seconds to compose herself.

"Malignant?"

With one subtle nod from the tall man, Caroline's entire world came crashing down. Right then and there she resented being a surgeon; she resented knowing the small survival odds.

"How bad?" her voice broke and with it her heart as well.

Normally, Harry would have tried to deliver the news gently, use kind words, but with Caroline that was pointless seeing as she was a medic as well and could read through the lines. So he did it swiftly, in one go.

"Stage IV Glioblastoma."

Green eyes widened at the cruel diagnosis. It was the most aggressive type of brain cancer and the odds were below 5% even if it had been caught earlier. Which it hadn't, because she hadn't taken her mother to the hospital when she should have. She'd been too wrapped up in her own personal mess and had missed all of the signs. An overwhelming guilt threatened to take over her so she squandered it, forcing the strong Caroline back to the surface.

"I want to see the scans."

Knowing better than to oppose a determined Caroline Forbes, Harry complied, led her to his office, shutting the door behind them to ensure privacy and offered her all of the exams performed on Liz Forbes.

Silently, the woman looked through each and every one of them; the only emotion she allowed was a gasp at the MRI. The cancer had spread so much that Caroline wasn't even sure what the best way to proceed was. Fear was clouding her judgment and in that instant she was extremely grateful that Harry was the doctor in charge of her mother's case. He was an extraordinary neurosurgeon and if anybody could accomplish a miracle it was him.

"What…" she swallowed hard. "How do you suggest proceeding?"

"We could try chemotherapy and radiation and hope it will somewhat shrink the tumor, but…"

"But you don't think it will," she cut in when it became obvious that he was not going to finish his sentence.

A shake of the head confirmed her words. Closing her eyes, Caroline willed all negative thoughts out and dug deep to retrieve the acclaimed surgeon that was buried somewhere within.

"What about operating?"

"It's an option, Caroline, but it's very risky. The tumor has grown so much and I'm not sure I could get it out and even if I could," he sighed. "I can't promise there won't be any permanent damage due to its position."

Of course he'd only said things she already knew, but hearing them aloud killed her. Now she could understand the grief of her patients. She could understand the pain. Hell, she could even understand why they blamed the doctors. You had to find someone responsible or you would go crazy. Only on this occasion, the woman did not blame Harry. She couldn't. The sole person she held accountable was herself.

"But she'll die without the surgery."

"She could die either way," Harry's blatant honesty was the proverbial nail in her coffin. Nonetheless, it was appreciated because she needed it.

"Can I see her?" the woman's voice was small, barely above a whisper as she stared at the ground.

"Of course, just ask at the front desk and they'll tell you where to go."

"Thank you," she tried to force a smile, but it was redundant.

"You have nothing to thank me for, Caroline," his elegant features morphed into a warm smile, reminding Caroline why he'd been one of her best friends in med school and also why he'd had dozens of girls falling at his feet, although Caroline had never been able to see him in such light. His kindness shone through every pore of his being and she'd been really lucky to have him take her mother's case. "Discuss it over with your mom and come find me once you've made a decision."

A curt nod later she was out of his office and back into the lobby, knowing Liz's room number, but unable to make her way there. As she was still wavering, the entrance doors flung open revealing a running Elena, Bonnie and Damon right behind her.

The brunette wasted no time and flung herself at Caroline, enveloping her in a bone-crushing hug, her other best friend momentarily joining them. Both girls held Caroline with all they had, offering whatever comfort they could.

"How bad is it, Care?" Elena dared ask once the blonde had pulled back.

"Bad," she sucked in a deep gulp of air. "Very bad. I'm…" droplet upon droplet rolled down her cheeks. "I'm supposed to go in and tell her. How do I do that, Elena, Bon, how?"

Both women had to fight their own tears at seeing the usually composed and carefree Caroline crumble completely in front of them. They didn't even know how to answer that question because had they been in the same position, they would have been much, much worse.

"You just have to be strong. For her," Bonnie gently placed a hand atop Caroline's. "Know, we're here for you, whatever you need."

Whispering a choked 'thank you' the surgeon finally gathered enough courage to face her mother. Violently wiping her face, vainly trying to remove signs of her breakdown, she walked into the room.

The first thought that crossed her mind was just how small Liz looked in that hospital bed, with machines attached to her body, monitoring her stats. Obviously, she knew they were meant to help, but seeing them there only made the situation seem more and more dire.

"Hey," a weak voice greeted her and Caroline nearly lost it right then and there. Instead, she forced a smile and lowered down on the edge of the bed, mindful of all the wires, but still needing to feel her mother close.

"I already know this is bad. That handsome, young doctor has a horrible poker face," Liz went for humor, but neither really felt like laughing. "Tell me. No sugarcoating it."

"Brain cancer," Caroline forced out, feeling another part of her being shredded at her mother's widened eyes.

"Can…" Liz swallowed the lump in her throat. "Can they do anything?"

"Harry can try and surgically remove it, but it's a risky procedure with very slim success rates."

"What are the risks?"

This was the part where she could minimize it. Keep the horrid truth to herself to ensure her mother has a fighting chance, but she simply couldn't. She had to be honest and allow Liz to make her own choices. She would support them no matter what.

"The tumor," the word left a sour taste in her mouth. "It's grown so much that trying to separate it could lead to severe motor or cognitive disabilities. There is also the risk of permanent brain damage," she got out through gritted teeth, emotionlessly breaking the news just as she would to any other patient. It was the only way for her to cling to some self-control and not be reduced to a wailing mess.

"So if I don't do anything about it I die and if I do, there's a good chance I'll be as good as dead."

Averting her eyes, Caroline wordlessly confirmed her mother's assessment, not trusting her voice to speak.

"What would you do?"

With that, Liz had successfully placed the weight of the entire world on Caroline's shoulders. She simply couldn't answer it. The decision couldn't be hers because if something went wrong, she would never forgive herself.

"Don't ask me this, mom. I can't," she allowed the first tear to fall under Liz's gaze.

"Caroline, I need you to. You're a doctor, you know more about this. Sweetheart, please, _I'll_ choose in the end, but I need your opinion," she reached to wipe away the tear.

Leaning into the soft touch, Caroline closed her eyes and tried to lose herself in it. Tried to create a world where her mother wasn't just diagnosed with a deadly cancer, a world where she did not have to weigh two just as dangerous options and make a choice that could kill her too. She would have given anything to be able to switch places with her mom. Anything.

"Caroline, it's okay, just tell me what you'd do," Liz gently coaxed her daughter.

"I…" she tried to put order in her jumbled thoughts, tried to do as her mother was pleading. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Feeling ashamed at her own weakness, the younger blonder wriggled out of the hold, careful not to hurt Liz and ran out of the room, ignoring the desperate screams she left behind.

Drowning. She felt like she was drowning and there was no way to pull back to the surface. Vision blurry, she lost herself in the corridors, heart threatening to burst out of her chest. Reaching a dead end, a secluded area, away from prying eyes, she collapsed on the floor, the pain too much to even keep standing.

Chest heaving, Caroline gave into every single emotion she'd tried to suppress so far, crying until her eyes hurt and her muscles were sore. Quite frankly, she didn't know how long she'd stayed there, couldn't even think of how much of a coward she'd been running off like that when her mother needed her most.

Just as a new breakdown was knocking on her door, the woman felt somebody watching her. Sure enough, when her gaze lifted from the floor, she came face to face with the person she'd least have expected to run into at a hospital.

A slender figure was towering over her, an elegant cream dress hugging the curves of her body, hair pulled back in an intricate braid. Sapphire eyes were looking down on her, but unlike last time they were not disdainful. No, pity was laced within them.

And Caroline hated it just as much.

"What…" she flinched at how croaky her voice came out. "What are you doing here?"

Was she here to mock her? Because any other explanation seemed out of reach to the blonde. Frankly, she couldn't even begin thinking straight and considering these things. They were meaningless in the big picture.

"I used to be very good friends with Stefan and he invited me to the wedding," Rebekah Mikaelson explained. "Although I think he did it mostly to annoy Nik," she chuckled. "But I couldn't miss a chance to see him when he avoids me like the plague any other day."

Nodding wryly, Caroline spoke, "I don't really want to talk about Klaus right now." And she couldn't. With her mother's illness, her problems with Klaus had become background noise. Besides, if those scars were ripped open as well, she was bound to bleed out entirely.

"I understand. And it's not what I came here to discuss anyway," the younger Mikaelson dropped down besides Caroline, resting her head against the cold wall, inhaling shakily before continuing. "I lost my mother a few years ago. Quite honestly, I think we lost her the moment Nik and Henrik walked out of our door. Even before that, I could see light leave her eyes every single day as dad used her as a punching bag. I was young, but I could still see it even though everybody else tried to shield me from it."

Caroline saw her blink repeatedly to push away the tears threatening to fall from her beautiful ocean eyes. But she was her brother's sister and with a few deep breaths she'd gotten the emotions under control.

"Yet, my messed up childhood is not what I came to tell you either. It's just… mom was gone so fast. I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye. None of us did. And I would have given anything, I would still give anything to see her one last time," she shook her head, clearly displeased with the words coming out of her mouth. "What I'm trying and failing to say is that you have that. You still have time and you're wasting it by crying and talking to me when we don't even like each other."

Choked laughs escaped both of their lips at Rebekah's poor attempt of a joke. However, her pep talk had Caroline wiping at her eyes, determination etched into her features. Klaus's sister was right. This was not the time to break down. This was a time to be strong, positive and have faith that things can work out. Also, hearing her story had driven her to realize just how lucky she was to still have her mother with her.

And she was wasting that precious time with meaningless crying.

"Thank you," Caroline stood up, wincing at the popping sound of her knees. At the last second, she turned back towards the Mikaelson, catching her trembling hand rub her face clear of any lingering tracks of tears. "I might actually start to like you. Just a bit," she winked before starting for Liz's room.

"I might too, Blondie," Rebekah shouted after her.

Just like that, Caroline was sure that on some level, a friendship had started to build. And even if life had taken away one Mikaelson, it had brought another in. The threads of her destiny must be somewhat entwined with that family and although Klaus might never come back and she didn't think she wanted him to, at least this way she could know if he was still alive or if he had succumbed to the myriad of demons plaguing him.

While she contemplated that complicated, dysfunctional family, Caroline had reached her own kin's hospital room. Another speck of hesitation was seeping into her heart, but remembering Rebekah's words was enough to dispel it.

"I would do the surgery," she declared as soon as she stepped in, afraid otherwise she would lose her nerve. "I know it's risky and it quite possibly won't end well, but there is still the chance of it working out. And however slim it is, having more time with you is worth all the risk in the world. I love you mom," she climbed in bed and grabbed hold of Liz's hand, squeezing with all of her might. "And whatever you want to do, I will support you every step of the way, but if it were me, I would do the surgery rather than wonder for the rest of my life what could have been."

Beaming at having her daughter back, Liz spoke," And that's exactly why I had also chosen the surgery," she hugged Caroline with all of her might. "I'm so happy you came back," she whispered in her ear, rubbing circles on Caroline back.

Right there and then, the younger Forbes wondered just who was comforting who, but then realized that it didn't even matter. All that mattered was that they were together, they were wrapped in each other's arms and they were taking advantage of the moment, because the future was a big question mark.

Yet, the present was tangible and none would trade it for anything in the world.

Unexpectedly, the door was opened, revealing none other than Harry. "Sorry for interrupting," he appeared visibly flustered at having walked in on such a private moment. "I was doing my rounds and wanted to check in on you."

"It's fine," Caroline flashed him her first real smile of the day. "Actually, it's more than fine because I was going to come find you anyway. We've chosen to do the surgery."

After nodding and assuring that he would start the prepping so it could be done as soon as possible to prevent the tumour from growing any further, tomorrow if he could, Harry bid them goodbye and left.

For the remainder of the day the surgeon refused to leave the room, determined to make the most out of every single second. So they spent their time watching old movies, indulging in the delicious food Elena had sent Damon to fetch, both avoiding the elephant in the room, making believe as if nothing was wrong.

Soon, visiting hours ended and Caroline had been expecting to say goodbye, but the kind head nurse reassured that an exception had been made in their case and that she could spend the night as long as she allowed the patient to rest because tomorrow would be a very trying day. That's right, Harry had cleared his schedule all so that he could operate as quickly as possible, just as he'd promised.

Once more, Caroline felt like the luckiest person in the entire world for having run into Harry. Moreover, she could swear that he had something to do with her being granted special privileges. All she hoped was that she would remember to thank her old friend for it the other day although she didn't really count on it seeing as that would be the day which would decide whether her mother lived or died.

When the clock neared midnight, Caroline reluctantly moved away from the bed where she'd laid curled up in the crook of her mother's shoulder like she'd used to do as a child longing for safety, protection and love. And she'd done it again this time, clinging to Liz like a lifeline, the warm, comforting caresses the only thing keeping her sane. So letting go hurt more than she could imagine, but it had to be done.

"The doctors are right, you should get some rest," she went to stand up when the sound of Liz's scolding voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Caroline, I've been patiently waiting for you to bring it up, but there is no way I am going to sleep until we talk."

"Talk?" the younger Forbes innocently asked, pretending like she didn't know what her mother was talking about.

"About why you were in that state back in the hotel room."

"Oh," Caroline could not help the hurt that seeped into her voice as she remembered everything that had happened. "That's not really important anymore mom and I'd rather not speak of it right now."

"We might not get another chance," Liz somberly reminded and she could have just as well punched Caroline in the gut. No, a hit she could take, but the prospect of losing her mother was too daunting. "Besides, I might be able to help you."

"I seriously doubt it, mom."

"Even if that were the case, Care, there used to be no secrets between us and I'd hate for them to start now."

 _They started a long time ago._

"It was Klaus," she mumbled instead.

"The Mikaelson boy? Your boyfriend?"

They had sounded like valid questions, but something told her there was more hidden behind them. Maybe it had been the narrowing of her eyes or the barely hidden scowl at the family name. Or her tired mind was conjuring up scenarios, but something told her that was not the case.

"I…" she hesitated because how do you tell a police officer who also happens to be your mother that you had been dating a psychopath killer? You didn't so she opted for a mellower version of the truth. "I found out some things about him I didn't like and we kind of broke up."

"You found out about his family," Liz concluded grimly.

"You knew?" incredulity seeped into her question as she stood up from the bed. "You knew and you didn't tell me?"

Guilt encompassed her mother's tired features and Caroline knew that the last thing she should be doing right now was start a fight, but she could not help it. If only she'd spoken up. It would have saved her so much heartbreak.

"You looked so in love and he looked at you as if his entire world spun around you. I didn't want to ruin your happiness after everything you'd been through."

A hysterical laugh escaped Caroline's lips. "My happiness? Mom, they're a family of murderers. After the way you raised me, how did you think I would take that? How did you think I would accept being in love with a murderer?"

Now her mother looked positively stricken. "At first I only recognized the name because his father had been on our most wanted list prior to his capture. I thought it could be a coincidence," words quickly spewed out of her mouth. "Then, after you left I looked him up and found no warrants issued on his name. In fact, he hadn't been tied to any members of his family in a long time and had even served in the military so I figured he couldn't be that bad of a person and chose to keep quiet. I'm truly sorry if my decision hurt you, Caroline. I'm so sorry I hurt you again."

And just like that, she couldn't stay mad at her mother. Plopping down on the bed, she grabbed hold of her hand, all fight leaving her body "You didn't hurt me, mom. My choices did. It's not like I didn't see any warning signs, but I chose to ignore them all. If there's anyone to blame for any of this it's me."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is," tears rolled down her face. "The first day I met Klaus, he almost killed a man in front of me. And it might have been to protect me, but that manic glint in his eyes should have been enough to make me stay away. For God's sake, he even told me countless times to stay away, but I didn't. Why didn't I just do that? Why did I keep on pushing him to be with me?"

"Because you love him, Caroline and love makes us blind."

"Still, how could I have been that blind? Kiss a monster and not realize it? I've never felt as safe as I felt in his arms. I mean, he's a cold hearted murderer, how twisted is that?"

"Is he? Are you sure?"

With those questions, Liz had turned her entire world upside down.

"What do you mean?"

"I meant exactly what I said. Are you 100% sure that he's just a cold hearted murderer, as you put it?"

"I asked him. I asked him if he's killed people and he didn't deny it. I gave him a chance to explain and he didn't. He just packed his things and walked away. Why would he have done so if it wasn't true?"

"I don't know," Liz helplessly shrugged, hating that she was unable to really comfort her daughter. "All I can tell you is that killing someone and being a cold hearted murderer who enjoys it are different things. In my line of work I've had to deadly shoot two people. Does that make me a sadistic person unworthy of love?"

"Of course not," Caroline didn't even blink before answering. "But the situations can't be compared. Klaus knows me. He knows I wouldn't judge him for that kind of thing so why didn't he just talk to me?"

 _He did try and you pushed him away._

"Only one person can answer that and it isn't me."

At that, Caroline buried her head in her mother's shoulder allowing a bit of her turmoil to show, welcoming the reassuring, soft circles Liz rubbed on her back, feeling like they were the one thing that keep her from tumbling into a never ending, pitch black abyss. Without her mother, that was the only outcome she could see and there was no coming back to the surface. Caroline knew it. There was no way she could face the mess her life had turned into without Liz by her side.

To her horror, between sobs she'd said just that and judging by how still her mother had grown, she'd understood every single choked up word.

"You can and you will do it, if it comes to it," Liz pulled them apart so she could stare directly into her daughter's clouded green eyes. When she got no acknowledgment, she repeated even louder. "You have to promise me that, Caroline."

Not trusting her voice, the surgeon nodded even if it felt like a part of her was dying along with it. How she would keep said promise was a mystery, but if it ever came to it, she would try. After all, failing her mother twice was unacceptable.

"I won't let you down again, mom," she murmured the second she felt steadier. "I swear I won't."

Some of the guilt Caroline had hidden was coming to the surface, to the police officer's bewilderment.

"Darling, you've never let me down. What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," the blonde faked a smile, hopefully camouflaging the remorse behind it. How could she tell her mother that had the cancer been caught earlier, like when she'd nearly fainted in the house, her odds would have improved? How could she even utter that if something went wrong it would only be her fault for being too wrapped up in her own problems to insist on a checkup?

She simply couldn't.

"It's really nothing," she assured again. "But it's late and you should get some sleep or the nurse will kick me out of here."

With that, she turned off the lights, a few pale rays of moonlight illuminating the room before taking a seat in the dingy, plastic chair beside the bed. Even if she tried to pretend like she hadn't noticed, a pair of blue eyes was transfixed on her as she struggled to find an acceptable position.

"Goodnight mom," she ceased her movement after concluding that there was no such thing as an acceptable position and that she would have to tough it out. Not like sleep would come anytime soon.

"You've never let me down, Caroline Forbes. I need you to know that," her daughter remained motionless. "I love you."

"I love you too," she tearfully declared, watching through half closed eyes as her mother slowly lost the fight against tiredness and succumbed to a peaceful sleep.

Caroline could do nothing of the sort. Her thoughts were too jumbled and erratic to even allow the possibility of resting to cross her mind. Tomorrow would be one of the toughest days of her life. Tomorrow her mother's fate would be decided and she was powerless to do anything to help her.

Helplessness.

A feeling that she was coming to know all too well, which she resented with all of her heart.

Why had she studied for years and years to become one of the best doctors only to not be able to do anything for the one person she cared most about?

More importantly, how could she have not noticed? That was what was literally killing her. If only she'd been more present, more grounded in the present rather than dwell on the past and its meaningless issues. True, she couldn't have prevented the cancer, but she could have discovered it earlier.

And Klaus. Everything her mother had said made perfect sense, but right now her mind simply couldn't deal with him as well.

So time rolled by, Caroline not catching a wink of sleep, tormented by self-destructive thoughts, loathing herself more and more with each passing minute. When Harry came in for a final checkup and woke Liz up, the young blonde managed to hold her façade up. Managed to be her bubbly self and infuse Liz with a confidence she lacked. Had it not been for the tenseness of Harry's shoulders, one would have guessed they were going in for a routine appendectomy.

It couldn't be further from the truth.

For every smile she faked, a piece of her heart was ripped open until Caroline was sure there was nothing left.

"Care, I…" Liz's eyes were bright with unshed tears as she fought for the right words. There weren't any.

"No," she stopped her mother. "Don't say another word. We'll have plenty of time once you wake up."

The police officer wanted to say more, felt like she should, but nothing came to her. So one hand squeeze later, she was wheeled into the ER, away from sight, leaving Caroline in the waiting area, shakily making her way to one of the seats, where Elena, Bonnie and Damon were waiting for her. Her friends had come back in the early morning hours, determined to be there for her.

However insensitive it sounded, Caroline didn't feel any better that they were there with her. Nothing could make her feel better. As the minutes trickled by, all she could do was reply her last conversation with her mother. Maybe she should have allowed a goodbye to take place. But she couldn't bring herself to. Oh God, what if she'd lost the one chance she had of telling her mother how much she loved her?

No news usually meant good news in the hospital, but she'd spoken to Harry before and had pleaded with him to send a nurse out when he could to inform her of how it was going and no one had come out in three hours.

That only meant complications had come up and that Harry needed all hands on deck to deal with them. With that, all of her remaining composure vanished and she allowed a few tears to seep when no one was looking. Unfortunately, when the dam broke there was no stopping it and soon she was crying hysterically in Elena's lap.

"Care!" Bonnie's stern voice managed to overpower her whimpers. "Look," she pointed towards the hospital entrance hesitantly.

For a second, Caroline thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. It couldn't have been. There was no way. But the tall figure was still there even after she wiped her eyes and pinched herself. Basked in subtle light, making his hair look even blonder, eyes a weary but sparkling grey.

He seemed older than when she'd last laid eyes on him, but somehow innocent, with light appearing to come straight out of his body, looking anything but like a psychopath. He resembled an angel coming to rescue her from the worst nightmare of her life, the sunlight creating a small halo, the rays turning into wings, but them she met his tormented, piercing orbs and was reminded that he was no angel.

No, he had enough demons to engulf them both.

Yet, her heart was still hell-bent on viewing him as a lifeline. As salvation.

Klaus Mikaelson.

A dark angel of sorts.

He'd come back and was apprehensively staring straight at her.

The final pieces of Caroline's heart shattered right there.


	17. Chapter 17

Never in a million years would Caroline have expected to come face to face with Klaus Mikaelson again after the way in which they'd parted. After how he'd turned his back on her and simply walked away.

Yet, there he was.

Fidgeting in a hospital entrance, all of a sudden, appearing unsure of how to act, shifting weight from one leg to the other although his eyes never wavered. No, they remained transfixed on Caroline who also found herself unable to tear her gaze off him.

It felt like all air had been sucked out of the room, leaving her unable to even breathe properly because what was she supposed to say? Better yet, what was she supposed to do?

The love of her life had returned in the hardest moment of her life, but all that had been said the last time still haunted her.

The word _murderer_ had never ceased running through her mind and now that she was face to face with Klaus, it had gotten even louder. So much louder that she could hardly hear anything else. It felt like she'd been thrown in a void where nothing existed but that word and someone continued to relentlessly shout it in her ear.

But then, the words her mother had said last night decided to join. At first, they were a jumbled mess that her mind could not wrap around, but shortly they became clearer and they were begging her to hear Klaus. They were pleading for her to offer him the benefit of the doubt.

And she really felt like giving into them because she was so tired of being strong and independent, mostly because those adjectives had also equaled, thus far, with being alone. This time she couldn't face this hurricane on her own.

It had already swept the steady ground off her feet, but if she continued to refuse help, it would sweep her far, far away as well. Frankly, Caroline wasn't sure she would ever be able to come back from that.

While her stubborn brain was still debating on how she should proceed, her legs appeared to have grown a mind of their own because she found herself standing up, continuing to gaze directly into those familiar, striking blue eyes. Unaware of the apprehension with which her friends were eyeing Klaus, especially the glare Damon was sending his way, Caroline took a tentative step forward.

That was all it took.

After that, all of her defenses crumbled to the ground. Gone was the put together façade, replaced by a girl who simply couldn't take it anymore. A girl who desperately needed to feel the touch of the man she loved with all of her heart.

Running had been the furthest thing from her mind, but that exactly what she found herself doing. Running into Klaus' arms not even considering that they might not be open for her anymore. And if she had asked Klaus, he would have grudgingly admitted that there would never be a time in which he wouldn't welcome her touch. They had become engrained within each other and no matter how hard they fought it, their bodies would always long for the other's warmth.

The second she reached him, she engulfed him in a tight hug, tear filled green orbs silently begging him not to let go, conveying just how much she needed his support. In response, the man wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in until his chin rested atop her head, slender fingers rubbing soothing circles down the sobbing woman's back.

Slowly, he could feel warm liquid start to seep through the thin material of his shirt and all he wanted to do was take her pain away. He would have given anything, even his useless life to save her all this heartbreak.

"I'm so sorry, Caroline," he whispered once he trusted his voice enough not to break. "I'm so sorry."

All the doctor did was shake her head, figure still wrecked with whimpers as she effectively let go of all control and allowed herself a moment to crumble, somehow, inexplicably trusting Klaus enough to glue her back together.

Blinking back surprising tears of his own, the man willed himself to speak, knowing the words had to be said.

"I know I'm probably the last person you wanted to see," the phrase tasted like sand in his mouth. "But Rebekah called and told me what was going on and I just couldn't stay away. I had to come even if you'd probably push me away. Caroline," he sucked in a deep breath. "I understand if you hate me and I know I didn't say anything when the time was right, but I can explain some of what Stefan said and…"

"Shh…" a finger covered his lips and he came face to face with bloodshot, tired emeralds. "I don't care. Right now I don't care about any of that. I _can't_ , I just…" superhuman efforts were needed to avert another breakdown. "Can you just hold me, Klaus, please?"

Seeing her so small, fragile, shadows dancing in her usually light-filled green eyes, Klaus knew that he could never deny her anything. So he wrapped her even tighter to his chest, feeling all fight drain from her body as she completely surrendered into the embrace.

While words and expressing emotions aloud had never been his thing, Klaus could not help the choked, "Always," that escaped his lips as the woman molded her figure to his, fitting perfectly in his arms like she'd been made just for him. God's ultimate gift and his final chance at redemption. And this time he wasn't throwing it to the wind.

He was here to stay. For as long as she'd have him, of course.

Not minding the hateful daggers Stefan's brother was throwing their way, Klaus led them to a chair, but to his bafflement, the woman didn't want to budge an inch, remaining on his lap, burying her head in the crook of his shoulder as they waited for a doctor or nurse to come out.

Finally, after what had seemed like infinity, a young doctor still clad in his scrubs came out, heading directly in Caroline's direction. As soon as Klaus saw the pained look on his face and how he shook his head, closing his eyes to clear them, he knew that nothing good would come out of his mouth. All he wanted to do was whisk the blonde somewhere far, far away from here and shield her from the tempest heading her way.

She was too innocent and she'd already suffered way too much. But he couldn't. Instead, he was rendered powerless once more.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he whispered, "Caroline, sweetheart," but didn't find it in him to go on.

He didn't have to because the woman pulled back, blinked a couple of times, reacquainting herself with the hospital waiting room. Klaus could feel the exact moment in which she landed upon the surgeon for every fiber of her being tightened up as she relinquished his arms and stood up.

"Harry," she breathlessly began, shoulders slumping as she took in the doctor's appearance. It felt like someone had sucker punched her because deep down she knew.

"I'm sorry, Caroline," he averted his eyes to the ground, unable to face his friend as the news sunk in.

"No," the blonde choked desperately. "No, Harry, please," tears freely streamed down her cheeks as she screamed at the man who was still having trouble looking her in the eye. "It can't be!"

"She went into cardiac arrest during the surgery," the young doctor relayed clinically as years of practice had taught him, but nothing could prepare you for how much it hurt to be letting down one of your best mates. "I tried everything and I did manage to bring her back, but the damage to the brain due to lack of oxygen is too extensive. I'm truly sorry, Caroline," his voice was raspier than usual as he was slowly losing composure.

The woman, on the other hand, felt her heart shatter as it sunk in. Harry hadn't said the actual words, but she had understood. And he knew that.

"I…" Harry cleared his throat. "The room is 408. I'll be in my office for when you make up your mind."

Klaus eyed the exchange not really getting the undertones like Caroline. Before they'd started speaking, he could have sworn Liz Forbes had died, but why was the surgeon giving out room numbers? It was confusing, to say the least.

However, there was no time to actually dwell on it for Caroline let out a heart wrenching wail, covering her mouth with a trembling hand wrapped in bandages, rivers rolling down her flushed skin. The onslaught of emotions taking over her was simply too much and her knees buckles under the pressure. If she were honest, everything inside her was falling apart and she felt like there was nothing to hold on to.

She was freefalling into a dark abyss.

Yet, she didn't feel the cold, hard hospital floor. Instead, a familiar, musky scent washed over her as a strong body broke her fall, cradling her to his chest as they both landed on the ground.

Klaus.

Suddenly, she wasn't aimlessly drifting through the void.

No, there was a lifeline slowly dragging her back to the surface.

As she wearily grew aware of the world around, Caroline could also feel the comforting touch of her best friends as they lowered down, flanking Caroline, hands resting on her back, offering as much comfort as they could.

But nothing could comfort a person after they lost the most important person in their lives. And Harry had spoken of decisions, but how could she make them? How could she?

"I didn't even get to say goodbye," she cried. "Mom wanted to, but I didn't let her and now I'll never have the chance. I didn't even tell her I loved her!"

"She knew," Klaus reassured softly, as if afraid raising his voice would hurt her.

"Oh, God," teary green eyes collided with sympathetic pools of sapphire. "I told her to do the surgery. This is my fault. Had I kept my stupid mouth shut, she would still be here with me today. Not for long, but she would be here."

Horrified, the man watched Caroline break even more as she took on her already unsteady shoulders the blame for her mother's death, hiding her face in his shirt. Wordlessly, his fingers lifted her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye. Needing her to see sincerity etched on his face.

"Remember when you told me that Marcel's death wasn't my fault?"

Eyebrows furrowed, the woman struggled to understand where he was coming from so she nodded confusedly.

"That was the first time I genuinely toyed with the idea of it not being my entire fault. Because it was you who was saying it and because I knew you would always be honest with me," feeling that she was about to interrupt, he rushed the words out. "Now, I need you to listen to me being as honest as I'll ever be in my life. It was not your fault. She chose to do the surgery not because you suggested it, but because she wanted to spend more time with you."

"But I told her to do it, as a surgeon," she protested weakly. "I was selfish and wanted her to be by my side more. I did it for me and now she's gone."

"Caroline," Klaus sternly began. "You are the most selfless person I know and if you said anything it was because you believed you were giving your mother her best chance. I know you enough to be entirely sure that is the case."

"But…"

"No more buts," he interrupted. "It was not your fault and I need you to believe me when I say that. At least think about your mother. Would she want you to go around carrying that blame?"

All the woman did was shake her head, but it was enough incentive for Klaus to continue. "So don't. Live your live honoring her memory, making her as proud as she was during her time here. Do not make her suffer by seeing you weighed down by guilt no innocent person should shoulder. I know first-handedly what that does to someone and you've seen the effects on me."

All that and Caroline still hesitated in believing him, appearing determined to put the weight of the entire world on her shoulders and bury herself beneath it. Klaus refused to allow that to happen. There was no way that she was heading down the same slippery slope he'd tumbled down on. It was too dark a road for somebody so pure.

"I'm _begging_ you," he used words he hadn't used in years without even caring about their implications. About how much he cared for Caroline to allow himself to be so vulnerable, open, raw. Mikael would have a field day with this version of his bastard son, but somehow Klaus couldn't bring himself to care. "Trust me, Caroline when I say it is not your fault. Liz would agree entirely with me, I'm sure."

Nothing had filled him with more joy than the subtle nod before she hid her head into his chest again, sobbing freely. Clenching his fists as he felt himself get choked up, the man settled for simply holding her as tightly as he could, creating a small cocoon of safety in which she could hide from the world for as long as she needed to.

Eventually, she did pull back; tear tracks marring her porcelain skin that was now translucent, red rimmed eyes still carrying an unspeakable amount of sadness. Plump lips formed a thin line while she nervously gnawed on the bottom one, a fleck of blood already resting there.

However, a steely determination had taken over her entire being, becoming apparent in the squaring of her shoulders and in the way she slowly picked herself up of the ground.

"I…" she cleared her throat before continuing. "Harry was right. I have to make some decisions and before that I really need to see my mother." Everybody in the room, with Klaus just a fraction of a second faster took a step forward, conveying their support and their willingness to accompany her. Seeing them unconditionally have her back threatened her newly found composure for a bit, but she'd made up her mind and she would not shatter again.

"Alone."

Her tone left no room for arguing and all the concerned people could do was watch her make her way towards the elevator and shakily press the button that would take her to Liz's room, dejectedly slumping into their chairs the second the gliding doors closed.

Waiting and praying that Caroline would find some hidden strength resources and somehow pull through.

Knowing that they would be there for her every step of the way.

If only she would let them.

* * *

The second Caroline set foot into the sterile hospital room, she took in the sickly green hospital walls, the dull, grey carpet and the familiar smell of antiseptic. Then her eyes wandered to the small window, from which a bleary, clouded sky greeted her.

She was just stalling. Stalling because she was unable to make her eyes drift to the hospital bed.

A few agonizing seconds later she couldn't help herself any more than she could help the gasp that escaped her lips at the sight.

Motionless, a huge bandage covering her head laid her mother's peaceful figure. Had it not been for the tube strapped to her mouth, forcing oxygen into her lungs, it would seem as though Liz Forbes was sleeping. In a way, the doctor assumed that could be the case.

A deep slumber from which she would never wake again.

Watching the steady rhythm of her chest as it rose with every artificial breath, keeping her body alive even though her mother was long gone, Caroline felt tears threatening to fall again.

Brain dead.

That was the medical term and she'd never struggled with the notion before. Now, though, she couldn't help hoping that her mother would crack open her eyes and prove every single study wrong.

Grabbing hold of the frail hand, she surrendered to the emotions bubbling beneath. Laying her head down on the bed, resting her forehead on Liz's palm, Caroline allowed the warmth radiating from it to wash over her.

Her mother's hand was so warm, while her own body felt deeply frozen from within.

How was it possible that she was the one alive?

How when there was so much heat seeping into her?

"I don't know what to do," she murmured wearily. "All I want is for you to open your eyes and tell me what to do. I know that's impossible, but I just don't know how to do any of this without you by my side."

Obviously, there was no answer, but she went on, feeling better just by saying the words aloud. Who knows, perhaps her mother was looking down on her right now. Perhaps she was listening.

"I'm so lost without you," she covered her mouth to stifle a sob. "I know what you would want me to do and, in the end, I'll do it, I promise, but it hurts so much. I'm just not ready to let go."

That final admission was too much and Caroline fell apart, coiling herself around her mother's unresponsive body, taking in this final hug because once she walked out of the door there will be no going back.

"I love you, mom, I hope you know that and I'm sorry I didn't say it more often. As often as I should have, as often as you deserved," she planted a sloppy kiss on Liz's cheek and exited the room, feeling uncharacteristically cold. If emotions had previously threated to overwhelm her, now Caroline felt empty. Completely and utterly empty.

Marching into Harry's office, Caroline announced that she agreed to donate her mother's organs and signed all of the paperwork. Thanking Harry and reassuring him that he was still her friend and nothing had changed, she walked out, eyes completely dry.

Just like she felt on the inside.

"Come on," she addressed her friends and Klaus who hadn't budged an inch from the waiting room. "I have a funeral to plan."

Ignoring their shocked faces, the woman left without bothering to check whether they were following her, got into a cab alone and immediately proceeded to make arrangements for the funeral service, all the while feeling absolutely nothing.

She'd become congealed, but at least her heart had stopped feeling like it had been cut into a bazillion pieces. Now it was like she didn't have one.

Who knew, maybe she'd simply been hurt too many times for it to survive and now there was simply nothing left to ache.

Quite honestly, she didn't miss it all that much.

* * *

A couple of days went by and the blonde had yet to shed another tear or even experience any real emotion. Elena, Bonnie and Klaus had stopped by her apartment to check on her, offer any help needed and bring food all the while begging her to eat something.

Suffice it to say, all of the paper bags and Tupperware containers rested untouched in a pile on her kitchen table.

Hunger was apparently included in the list of things she simply didn't feel anymore.

Along with sleep.

She was numb.

A heartless robot going through the motions.

Today though felt different somehow.

She'd woken from her two-hour slumber with a pang in her chest that only intensified while she put on her plain, black clothes. Staring at herself in the mirror, Caroline hardly recognized the image greeting her.

A pale reflection looking through the glass. Someone with unfocused eyes and huge, purple bags underneath them. Gone was the woman with light shining from within. All that remained was a ghost standing in her place. A ghost who'd forgotten what it felt like to have a heart and was now slowly becoming reacquainted with it.

Today it hurt again.

Today was the funeral.

Today she would lay her mother to rest for good.

Today it hurt the most.

Arriving at the funeral hall, she was surprised to find it brimming with people. But then, her mother had been loved all around Mystic Falls for her kind heart and fair attitude so it was kind of self-explanatory.

Taking her seat, the blonde started to feel the burn in her chest again and for a second she resented it, but then she felt grateful for it. It reminded her that she was alive, at least. After the last few days she'd started to have doubts regarding that as well. Maybe her mother truly had ended up taking Caroline with her as well.

Or, at least the parts that counted.

The parts that had made her Caroline Forbes.

Damon had been chosen to deliver the eulogy and, although she'd held some doubts, he handled it beautifully and Caroline only managed to get through it because of Klaus's hand strongly tucked inside her own, anchoring her. He'd returned with her to Mystic Falls, had even faced Stefan and remained civil.

For God's sake, he was standing five seats away from the Salvatore and not an inch of the raging storm he must be feeling as well shone through. Acting like he didn't even care.

All for her.

Showing just how deeply he cared for her.

Although she was sure he didn't believe she'd noticed, too lost inside her own head, fighting her own demons to keep them from overpowering her, Caroline had. Even if the world _murderer_ still haunted her mind whenever she laid eyes on Klaus, it was slowly reduced to background noise after seeing how gently he treated her.

That was not the manner in which a psychopath would act.

Not even close.

By the time it was her turn to say a few words, a lump had formed in her throat and her brain refused to form any coherent sentences.

So she did the only other thing she was good at beside talking, operating and getting herself into trouble.

She sang.

Poured all of her love and hurt into the lyrics and soon, tears rolled down her cheeks as she struggled to make it through the entire melody, focusing her gaze on Klaus's cerulean orbs, not even blinking for fear it would be the end of her already thin composure.

Even so, it was too much and once she was done she ran out, wordlessly begging Klaus not to follow her. She needed some time to sort herself out and the prospect of witnessing them lower her mother's casket into the freshly dug grave and cover it was too daunting and she couldn't do it. She simply couldn't.

She'd reached her limit.

Every person was born with a breaking point and it was a freaking miracle that Caroline hadn't reached hers until now.

And seeing them throw dirt over her mother's sickly pale face was just that. Her breaking point and if she reached it, she would implode pieces of her scattering all over and nobody would ever be able to find them and reassemble them.

Instead, she headed to her safe spot. A small clearing in the forest, by the stream where she used to go since being a child and simply begged her mother, who was hopefully watching from above, to help her. Guide her through righting the mess that was her life.

Show her how to even begin living said life without Liz's constant guidance.

Show her why it was even worth living in the first place when she had basically nothing left.

Also, show her how to do it because for now, the woman was at a loss as to how to proceed and needed some sign. Some guidance before she completely lost herself.

A soft, summer wind engulfed her, soothing her as it caressed her sweat-covered skin, completely clearing her eyes of any remaining, stubborn tears. Strangely, she felt like it was her mom's way of showing she'd heard every single word and that she was still there for her.

Her guardian angel.

Somehow, her heart never wavered in that belief and it gave her some power to draw from. Nevertheless, she spent some more time stuck in the same place, waiting to feel that breeze again.

It never came.

Maybe she'd imagined it.

Or maybe that was Liz Forbes's way of telling her to get on with it and stop moping.

She chose to believe the second option.

Night was starting to bleed by the time she was ready to face the world again and the first place she went to was the cemetery, assuming it would be deserted by now, even her closest friends having gotten tired of waiting for her to show up and going home..

To her surprise, a silhouette rested by her mother's grave, shoulders slumped and staring into the distance, black clothes camouflaging it almost entirely.

She'd recognize it anywhere.

Klaus Mikaelson.

Unwillingly, the woman stepped on a small branch, cracking it. Immediately, Klaus' oceans turned towards her, a relieved sigh coming out of his mouth as he took in the woman watching him. Judging from her puffy eyes, it was clear that she'd been crying.

Shamefully, the man was somehow content that she'd given in to feelings again because the cold, detached version she'd projected until now had scared him tremendously.

He'd been afraid she would become just as bitter.

Idiot! He should have known Caroline was infinitely better than him and that she would never allow herself to follow after him.

She was simply too good.

Beautiful albeit sorrowful features softened a bit at seeing him still waiting for her, but the tone of her voice left no room for arguing.

"We need to talk," she emotionlessly declared, piercing him with clear, determined green eyes.

All he did was take a sharp, deep breath ,heart was thrumming, threatening to come flying out of his chest.

This was it.

The turning point in their relationship.

The moment when he came clean about all of his past.

The moment that could either make or break them and a last bout of cowardice took over him, telling him to invent an excuse and bolt. Walk about before she could reject the abomination he was and send him away.

However, he'd done that once and it had nearly broken him

So he nodded and got ready to tell the story of his miserable life.

* * *

 **A/N: A massive thank you to the people that left a review on the last chapter and also to those of you who continue to add this story to your favourite/follow list. It genuinely means the world to me that you have stuck by this story even though my updating has been hectic at best and I want to promise you once more that I have no intention of even abandoning this story as long as you keep liking it.**

 **Now, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as always, if you have time I would appreciate hearing your thoughts on it. Thank you once more!**


	18. Chapter 18

When Klaus had decided to come back to Caroline following Rebekah's angry phone call, he had braced himself for this moment. He'd known it would eventually come and he had honestly thought he was prepared for it.

Now, when actually faced with it, Klaus found a lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow back regardless of how hard he tried.

With her words Caroline had cracked open the door he'd kept under lock and key for so long. The cage that had held captive all those dark memories had been unlocked and they were slowly overwhelming him. There had been a reason why he'd never discussed them: his sanity.

He didn't know if the little shards that still remained wouldn't shatter beyond repair and leave him even more broken. If that was humanly possible.

However, backing down was not an option when those honest, green eyes continued to expectantly stare at him. There was no way he was letting her down again. So, although it might tear him apart, he would open up to her because she was worthy of that and so much more.

Apparently sensing the man's inner turmoil, Caroline remained quiet, taking in Klaus's slightly ragged breathing and the way he clenched and unclenched his fists so tightly that she was sure he'd nearly drawn blood.

Seeing the effect it had on him, the blonde was close to telling him not to say another word, her heart aching alongside his, but she couldn't. She needed- no, she _deserved_ \- an explanation and not even her feelings could sway her conviction.

"We…" Klaus cleared his throat, cringing with how raw his voice had sounded. "It's quite a long story. We should sit down."

"Okay," Caroline wordlessly followed him to his previous spot, underneath a slightly welted oak tree, knowing he was stalling, but letting it slide. She understood how hard this was for Klaus and the one thing she would not do was push him past his limits. No, Caroline will let him take his time, even if it meant they had to spend the entire night on the hard ground in this cold cemetery that she greatly despised for it held a dear part of her heart.

While he was still gathering himself, the doctor risked a glance at her mother's nearby tomb.

It was more fitting than she could believe that the only witness to Klaus's confessions would be her mother seeing as she was the one who'd convinced Caroline to give him a chance to explain.

Thinking of Liz was still so hard and the woman felt the familiar prickling of tears, but then she remembered that her mother was still by her side and would always be even if she couldn't see her.

Up in the stars shining above.

Beside her in the warm wind engulfing her in the loneliest times, proving comfort and support.

Her guardian angel.

"I guess it started before I was even born," Klaus surprised her by speaking aloud, his voice strong and confident as a humorless chuckle escaped his lips. Sharp emeralds turned to look at him only to find his posture anything but those two adjectives. His muscles were tightly wound, eyes narrowed as he stared into the distance, almost entirely turned away from her. Still, he must have sensed her confusion for he elaborated. "Mikael's- my father's- hatred for me. Now, I can understand some of it, I guess, but when I was young I never could. I never could grasp why he despised me so much when all I wanted was for him to love me at least half as much as he did my other siblings. And I really, really tried to be a good kid that he could be proud of. Until I realized that it would simply never come to pass."

Klaus had only started, but Caroline already felt her heart breaking for the young, sandy-haired boy longing for his father's approval. Images of yearning blue eyes flashed before her and she could not shake off the picture of those honest, eager orbs filling with tears that spilled down porcelain, rosy cheeks as the light inside them was slowly extinguished.

"I'm not telling you this to earn your pity, Caroline," Klaus sternly added as if reading her thoughts. "It's just… necessary context. Anyway, years passed and his ire only grew stronger, the differences between me and my brothers only more obvious with the passage of time."

"Did- did he…" her tongue stumbled on the words.

"No, he didn't beat me," Klaus spared her, almost as if he'd read her mind. "At least no more than a normal parent would."

Caroline wanted to scream at him that a ' _normal'_ father did not abuse his children but she did not for fear that it would make him shut off.

"As I've told you before, most of my family are not good people, myself included," self-hatred laced his voice. "But Mikael, he was the worst. You see, tradition in our household- imposed by the patriarch, of course- stated that once a child was of appropriate age he would join the _family business."_

The way he spat the last two words out sent a shiver down her spine. They were like a sharp blade that cut through everything standing in its way. Slowly, they were starting to gnaw at her heart too.

"I saw what it did to my elder brothers so when my turn came I said no. From that moment it was like I did not exist for my father. A pariah. We didn't even speak with each other and every single night I could hear my mother's pained cries as she paid for my refusal and I didn't interfere because deep down I knew I would only be making it worse. I just kept my head down and endured. Until Henrik's- my younger brother's- birthday came."

Caroline was already hating this story and despising Mikael for having destroyed Klaus. She couldn't even imagine growing up with the shadow of your father's loathing looming over you. It wasn't right and she wanted to go and find this despicable man and give him a piece of her mind. How could he have hurt his own child so much? Better yet, how could anyone hurt a child?

"Mikael's idea of an ideal present was an invitation to join his business. I couldn't allow that to happen. You see, Henrik was pure, innocent, unsoiled by the world and he deserved a chance to live out his dreams." Caroline knew where this was headed. She knew before he bitterly uttered the words. "So I made a deal with Mikael and joined in Henrik's stead, promising to never deny him anything he demanded of me."

A sharp intake of air was the only proof of just how much it hurt Klaus to delve into these memories, but if she stopped him now, Caroline knew that she would never get the truth and she needed it. She needed it more than she'd needed anything in a long time. She needed to know that the man she loved was not a cold-blooded monster.

"What," she choked on her words. "What was this business?"

Tortured sapphires turned to look at her for the first time and such anguish was swimming within that Caroline could feel it bleed into her as well.

"A criminal empire," he stoically said, but Caroline had already guessed that much. "Laundering money, bribing cops, arson, selling weapons to gangs and terrorists, you name it and we did it. _I_ did it."

Not averting his eyes, Klaus allowed her a glimpse into his soul and all she could find were ruins, broken pieces that she wasn't sure anybody could glue back together. Yet, his posture remained stoic, voice not giving anything away.

"You see, I couldn't say no. I had promised and the second I went back on the promise, Henrik would be pulled into Mikael's- our- world and it would have all been in vain. So I became his bloodhound. A brainless, ruthless puppet at his beck and call. But that wasn't the worst part."

The woman shuddered at how cold he sounded. Like he was just a robot mechanically telling a story. Not even a muscle twitched, but his eyes screamed. They screamed of unimaginable pain and suffering endured for the sake of a loved one. This man who would shout at the sky that he was a selfish monster was probably more selfless than anyone she'd met. He'd sacrificed his soul for his brother.

"The worst part was that I was good at it. I was the best," and the self-loathing was back, stronger than ever.

Turning away from her again, Klaus relayed the events of when he'd been forced to kill somebody for the first time. And she listened with silent tears streaming down her face as she envisioned the scene. She was, in fact, in love with a murderer, but it hadn't been by choice. He had fought against it, but life had continued to pull him in that direction. He'd done it to protect his brother and that didn't excuse his actions, but it gave them context.

She could understand. Not condone, obviously, but understand that he'd been caught in a whirlwind and had done his best not to ensure his own survival, but that of the ones he held dear.

"So Stefan was telling the truth, I did kill people," Klaus told her through gritted teeth. "After that night I killed four more persons," his features morphed into pure suffering as his fist tightened around his thigh, probably leaving bruises in its wake. "And I remember each and every one of their faces. They're my own personal ghosts, the last thing I see before I fall asleep and the first thing every morning."

"Klaus, I…" she searched for the right words, but found herself tongue-tied like never before.

"I'm not done yet," his tone left no room for arguing and shortly afterwards he continued, telling her about an assignment to murder a police officer and how it had felt wrong from the get-go. By the time he relayed how he'd seen the little girl who reminded him of his younger siblings and how he'd let the entire family go, Caroline knew that the good she'd seen in him had been real.

It hadn't been an illusion she'd created, but a genuine reflection of who Klaus Mikaelson really was. She also hated Mikael and Finn passionately because how could someone do this to their own kin? How could they force him down this path knowing it would break him?

"I knew I had signed my death warrant, but I still hoped I could stop Mikael from making a show out of it in front of my family and from pulling Henrik into his dark affairs. But I couldn't do that either. I was useless."

And the events from that fateful night stumbled out of his mouth; the only emotion he let on was when he described his moments alone with his siblings. Dilated pupils almost entirely encompassed his irises making his eyes seem obsidian. A fitting color for the abominations leaving his mouth. Mikael wasn't his father. Sure, that explained a lot, but it could not ever justify why he'd tortured him. The young boy who'd been raised in his household. An innocent child who did not deserve to pay for his mother's adultery.

How could anyone be capable of causing so much pain?

As Klaus recounted how he'd been burned with a cigarette, Caroline was reminded of the scars scattered all over his torso and felt herself break even more. By the time he told her how he'd urged Henrik to just shoot him and put an end to his misery, Caroline was openly sobbing.

The man standing before her had been through hell and back. Sure, he'd shortly been one of the devil's demons, but God had he paid for it. Warm rivulets cascaded down her cheeks as her breath hitched as he recalled unsteady hands missing the shot.

"Sometimes I wish he would have killed me. Maybe then he'd still be alive."

Two sentences.

That was all he said, but it effectively cut off her air supply. He sounded so genuine, so repentant to still be alive that Caroline could not help taking his hand in hers and clutching it tightly to her chest as it heaved with whimpers. She hoped that he would feel how her heart thumped at his confessions, hoped he would feel how it slowly broke apart for him and all he'd endured at the mercy of a psychopath. Most of all, she hoped it would convey all the words that were stuck in her throat. All of the feelings simmering beneath the surface that refused to come to light.

"Don't _ever_ say that again, Klaus. _Never_. Don't even think of it." The few words that she did utter sounded pitiful to her own ears, but it was all she could muster up and she hoped the man would somehow be able to read between the lines.

 _I don't want you to die. I want you to stay with me._

When he stared at her with wide, disbelieving pools of stormy sky, Caroline knew that he'd understood her and saw the first hint of tears. They were threatening to come pouring out, but he blinked them away, rested his head on the tree and, closing his eyes, he continued his story, face twisted up as if it physically pained him to go on.

However, he did not pull his hand away, drawing strength from the woman who still hadn't left his side even after he'd told her just how much of a monster he was.

The more words rolled down his tongue, the more Caroline felt her heart shatter. Aurora's death left her speechless, unable to comprehend how one person could have been through so much and still remain sane. How could he shoulder so much undeserved guilt and still get out of bed in the morning. Now, she could understand why he drank, she could understand why he'd tried to choke her in his sleep, she could even understand why he was so cold and guarded.

Hell, her mother's death had nearly destroyed her, leaving her emotionless and unable to cope with it any way other than completely shutting down. Had she been through a quarter of what this man had endured, Caroline was sure she would have been long committed to a mental institution. If she hadn't committed suicide before. Which was something that Caroline feared asking about because a part of her already suspected what the answer would be.

It was etched in the disgust with which he spoke of himself. The contempt with which he addressed his survival.

When he informed her that with their escape he wasn't done, Caroline honestly wanted to make him stop because she was unable to take anymore, but one look at him and she couldn't. She would bet her life that he'd never spoken about those things with anyone and, like it or not, it probably helped him to get them off his chest so she steeled herself and listened intently to the remainder of the story, forcing herself not to crumble.

War.

He'd gone to war to try and right his wrongs. And if that didn't show his true character, Caroline didn't know what would. Talking about his and Henrik's capture was so hard that he had to take a moment to gather himsef.

This was the second time he'd been tortured but it seemed like the blows were the easiest part to talk about. They barely made a dent in his walls, but when he spoke about the terrorists laying a hand on his brother, Caroline felt a tremor wreck his body, so she squeezed harder, hoping it would somehow help.

Henrik's death was the final nail in her coffin and even the small semblance of self-control she'd kept so far was vanquished the second she saw the first tears escape his red-rimmed eyes as not even Klaus could reign in that much suffering.

Furrowing his eyebrows and pursing his lips, Klaus bit down on the inside of his cheek until the metallic taste of blood enveloped him. At least it helped overcome the bile that had been present throughout his story.

"Before I could bleed out, they rescued me," he scrunched his nose and forced himself not to succumb to his desire to just curl up in a ball and cry. He even refused to acknowledge the tears rolling down his face, closing his eyes and hoping it would stem the flow. "They rescued me so I could witness my last remaining friend die while I survived. I always _survive._ Who knows? Maybe that's my divine punishment. Poetic justice…watching innocent people die in front of me while I am powerless to stop it. If it is, God has a really sick sense of justice."

He didn't have to say another word for Caroline to know what he felt. She knew that he blamed himself. And it wasn't fair. He'd done all and more than a human being could do for his brother. Sure, in the end it hadn't been enough, but he couldn't take that responsibility. It was not fair.

The worst part was that she did not know how to get through to him. How to make him see that he was not responsible for his family's heinous acts and that he'd more than paid for his sins.

To think that she'd shut him out without an explanation, trusting Stefan blindly after everything he'd done to her intensified her bleeding. She was still searching for words, but her voice was completely failing her and the best she'd managed was to stop the incessant flow of tears.

However, she must have been quiet for too long and Klaus must have mistaken her stunned silence for rejection for he pulled his hand away from her grasp and violently removed all traces of tears from his cheeks, standing up and hissing at the popping sound of his knees.

"I understand that you want nothing to do with me anymore, Caroline. I expected it…" anguish once again tore through his cold exterior, making room for the hurt young man who'd been forced to grow up too soon. "I'm truly sorry I dragged you into my world and I hope you can, someday, forgive me for having hidden just how much of a monster I truly am and allowed you to get this close to such a despicable being."

By the time the surgeon had processed Klaus's words and understood that it had been his goodbye, Caroline bolted up, staring at the figure who was deftly navigating through tomb stones, clearly in a rush to get away from the cemetery.

Right then and there her head was a mess, thoughts running wildly around it along with images she wished she could block out and words that she wished she could unhear. If anybody had asked her, she wasn't sure she could even voice her name aloud, but there was one thing she was sure of:

There was no way Klaus was walking away from her again.

She'd tried to face the world falling apart around her without him and it had nearly swallowed her up. She needed Klaus. She loved him. That was the first time she could admit it to herself without feeling sick to her stomach, like she was betraying everything she stood for and the values her mother had taught her.

She loved him and he wasn't a psychopath. He was nowhere near that and she had to find a way to make him see it. See himself through her eyes and find that he was someone worthy of love. Worthy of being loved.

And that would never happen if she allowed him to leave right now because she was sure she would never find him again.

So she started running, cursing at her stupid dress and high-heels over which she kept tripping.

 _Screw it,_ she thought before tossing her shoes to the side and breaking into the fastest sprint her body would allow, damning herself for not having gone to the damned gym lately. Soon her lungs were burning and her muscles had started to cramp, but she'd managed to close the distance between them. Caroline tried to yell at him to stop, but all that came out was a hoarse croak while her mouth struggled to take in as much oxygen as possible.

"Stop!" she did manage to get out once she was within 50 meters of him, but not halting her run in case he did not heed her command. Klaus Mikaelson was quite headstrong, after all. "Just stop," she panted and finally managed to wrap her manicured nails around his cotton t-shirt. Through the thin fabric, she could feel the rippling of his muscles as she touched his back. Tense and ready to erupt with tension.

"You don't get to walk away from me that easily, Klaus Mikaelson."

Stunned, the man immediately turned around, mouth hanging open as he took in the woman who'd chased after him. Crimson cheeks, tousled hair, narrowed eyes and mouth wide open, sucking in precious air. Intense green eyes clashed with confused ocean ones and the man could not believe the myriad of emotions swimming in the pools of mercurial emerald. He had to avert his gaze as to not get his hopes up.

There was no way he was reading them right. No way after all he'd confessed.

The moment his eyes dropped to the ground, he took in her dirty feet, grass stains scattered all the way to her ankles.

"Wha- why?"

Did she follow him so she could tell him in person how horrible of a person he was? Because although she'd cried with him at his story, he knew she hadn't cried for him, but rather for the innocent people who'd been hurt by despicable beings like himself. He'd read the revulsion on her face and it had been more than his already flayed heart could take so he'd run before she could voice it, but apparently she wanted to anyway.

"You still can't see it, do you?" Caroline incredulously asks.

"See what?"

What game was she playing with him? He only hoped it was quick because he didn't know how much longer he could take. The sorry state of his soul could only endure so much.

"You are such a fool, Klaus."

There it goes, the man recoils at the word Mikael had used on him countless times. Although it lacked the usual ire, it still stung to hear Caroline say it.

Not missing his minute flinch, the blonde wondered what she'd said wrong, but there was no time to dwell on it. She had to do something before Klaus slipped through her fingertips for good. Yet words seemed to let her down around him most of the time.

Well, actions did speak louder than words.

At least she hoped they did, because otherwise she was screwed.

Gently cupping his cheeks, like he was one of Liz's beloved, antique fine china between her clammy palms, Caroline forced him to look into her eyes. Forced him to see the acceptance behind them. To see the concern and desire to somehow help him hurt less. To see the _love_ she laced them with.

Still, it didn't seem to really register with him for he tried to pull away, put distance between them once more. In one swift move he'd shut his eyes and effectively closed himself off from her. She couldn't allow it.

Desperation seeped into her bones when she realized that nothing she was doing was helping her cause. Deep down she knew that words wouldn't quite reach him. Not when the belief that he was to blame for all of those deaths was so deeply engrained into his brain. Throwing caution to the wind, she did the only thing she hoped would get her point across.

She kissed him.

Tentatively, her lips barely brushing over his, bracing herself for his rejection, stomping her feet well into the ground in case he pushed her away. But he did no such thing. It was like he was a statue, motionless, eyes wide open while his brain wrapped around the idea that Caroline Forbes was kissing him.

He'd told her all of his wretched life and she was still kissing him. Why he could not understand, but he could not deny the ripple of electricity that coursed through his veins, nor the way his heart fluttered at having her soft lips flush against him.

Unbeknownst to him, she was feeling that and even more. It was their first real kiss, with everything on the table. No secrets creating a precipice between them. Caroline had taken care of jumping over and Klaus was there to catch her. He would always be there, as long as she'd allow it.

Slowly, as if afraid it would shatter the moment, he started to respond, leaning into her, hesitant fingers stroking her neck and tangling into her hair. Her body molded perfectly to his and he could feel her go soft into his embrace, surrendering herself to him entirely.

It spoke volumes of the trust she somehow held for him and he deepened the kiss, for fear that once they pulled away she would realize what a mistake she was making. As his tongue started to taste her plump lips, begging for entrance that she granted immediately, Klaus felt his body catch fire. His heart was thrumming inside his chest and the fingers stroking her neck announced that she was feeling quite the same.

As their bodies melded together so did their hearts, beating in perfect synch, both of their souls bare in front of the other, feelings no longer hidden. Under her touches Klaus felt himself come alive for the first time in years.

Mikael. Finn. Even Henrik and Marcel.

They were all muted. Background noise as his demons no longer fought to take over him.

In that moment he belonged to Caroline Forbes. All he was, all that had remained of him was hers.

When they finally had to pull away to gulp down some oxygen, Caroline surprised him even more by not letting go of his face. Instead, she tightened her grip on him, coming closer until he could feel her hot breath ghost over his skin.

"I love you, Klaus Mikaelson," she whispered as if afraid to scare him off. "I think I've loved you for quite some time, but I couldn't even admit it to myself until now. I love you," she repeated after seeing his shocked expression.

Nobody had told Klaus they loved him in such a long time that he'd forgotten how it felt like. However, he was sure that it had never felt this strong before. It was like somebody had, in one swift motion, taken down all of the shackles around his heart. He felt vulnerable, exposed, but in front of Caroline he did not mind.

No, he reveled in it, loving the way he felt significantly lighter, freer under her touch. The kind, unassuming, loving touch that he did not deserve. Lord, he wanted to say it back to her, tell her just how much she meant to him, but he couldn't.

Everyone he loved had died in his arms and uttering those words to Caroline felt like a death sentence and he'd refused to say those words in months, resenting them. He resented the aftermath and he just couldn't risk it with Caroline.

Not when she was the purest thing that had happened to him in such a long time. Those words were dangerous, evil, cursed when they came out of his mouth.

"I…"his mind searched for something- anything- to say back to her.

As always, aware of the battle raging inside Klaus, the blonde placed her index finger atop his lips, sealing them.

"You don't have to say them back. That's not why I said them. I just…" she bit her lip. "I needed you to know how I feel. I needed you to know that you deserve love and that I am willing to prove that to you every single day, if you'll just let me."

"Caroline," it broke his heart to say this, but he had to. She had to know what she was getting into. She had to know how dangerous being next to him was. "I don't deserve you. Not after everything I've done and you certainly don't deserve a broken, tortured excuse of a man by your side. You deserve the world and I can't give that to you. Not when merely waking up in the morning is a struggle for me."

"Then I'll fight right by your side and be there to remind you that you've won every single morning. Besides, you do deserve it, because in spite of all you've been put through, there is still a good person hidden behind that cold façade. "

"That's not true," he shields his face away from her. "Mikael killed all the good in me when he forced me to pull that trigger."

"No, he did not. I am sure of it."

"How can you still say that?" his voice wavered and a slight glimmer appeared in his tormented eyes.

"Because I've witnessed it countless times. You saved me…"  
"After putting you in danger by being next to you," he cut her off, disdain seeping into his words. "I still am, even as we speak."

"Maybe, but you also protected me and I know you will continue to do so. You taught a little girl you didn't even know how to swim. You came with me to Mystic Falls and endured Stefan's…."

"Don't talk to me about Stefan ever again!" he could not help exclaiming, loathing the sound of his name coming out of her pure lips. He was a murderer and Caroline was the only reason why he hadn't killed him. His blood started to boil again only at the remainder of what his former friend had been capable of doing.

"You still haven't told me everything, have you?" hurt made its way to Caroline's features and he couldn't keep it a secret anymore. He couldn't hide anything from her anymore. It wasn't fair, especially after she'd opened up her heart and told him that she loved him.

Therefore, he told her about Camille, watching as her face crumpled at the realization that her ex fiancée also had innocent blood on his hands. It was almost like she was a magnet for damaged guys, wasn't she? Yet that wasn't the thing her brain chose to focus on. Camille was.

The woman that Klaus spoke of so fondly and so regretfully. She could still remember how crazed with vengeance he'd been towards Lucien and there was only one reason why a man would act like that.

"You loved her," she mumbles, eyes downcast as she inhales deeply. It wasn't a question but he finds himself shrugging as an answer.

 _Not like I feel for you,_ he truly wants to say, but something continues to hold him back. He could not say those words and put her in jeopardy.

"I'm really sorry for your loss," she genuinely speaks, although her heart breaks knowing that he had loved Camille even though he doesn't appear to be able to love her back.

Maybe with time, she tries to reassure herself and keep the hurt from showing on her face, but like always he sees straight through her mask, narrowing his eyes at the fake attempt of a smile as she steps back from him.

Klaus will not allow the distance though. Not when he knows he'd unintentionally caused her pain. Her- Caroline- the woman who'd been willing to forgive everything he'd done. The woman who'd brought him back to life. Nobody could compare to her. Nobody could measure up to the gifts she'd given him. He could never hurt her. Sighing, he grabs a hold of her wrist, gentle, but tight enough to ensure she will not be able to pull away if she wants to. She doesn't though, her muscles going lax in his fingers.

"Camille…it wasn't…with you it's different, I…," he stumbles on his words, clenching his jaw in frustration at his mouth refusing to cooperate with his heart.

"It's fine. You don't have to explain anything to me, Klaus," she smiles, but it's tainted by sadness. "But I do need you to promise me one thing, though."

"Anything," he breathlessly responds knowing it's true.

"Promise me that I'm not a replacement for Camille. That you're not just looking for someone to fill in her gap because even if I love you, I can't be that person. I can't."

Munching on her bottom lip, Caroline wills herself not to cry as she awaits an answer that could either make or break her. The longer the silence stretches on, the longer she feels her heart shatter and she hates it since she knows that this time it will not be mended that easily. This time was different and she'd fallen so much deeper and harder. However, her self-respect would never allow her to be nothing more than a rebound. Not even for Klaus.

She refused to be that woman.

"Never," one word breathed life into her frozen self. "You are so, so much more than that to me, Caroline," the man shook his head, determinedly going on. "After Camille was murdered I thought I would not ever feel that much for a person again. I was frozen, bitterly searching for revenge hoping it would somehow ease the pain. Yet I was empty, so empty until a demanding, stubborn blonde forced her way into my life and refused to leave regardless of how hard I pushed her away."

Heart fluttering at his words, Caroline leaned into for another kiss and was incredibly surprised when he met her halfway, both surrendering entirely to the passion, tasting every inch of the other's mouth and ministering soft, reassuring touches. Klaus was the one who pulled away, but this time he did not put distance between them, whispering in her ear, "Now I don't ever want her to leave my side."

Although it might not have been the most romantic declaration or the clearest one, it was enough for Caroline. She knew him enough to know this was monumental and that it was the best this hurt man could offer right now. And she'd take it because even if he hadn't said it, she'd felt that he reciprocated her feelings. He'd poured his heart out in that kiss.

"She won't," she reassured in the same quiet tone, as if afraid that raising her voice would shatter the moment or ruin the magic engulfing them. "As long as you promise not to fade away either."

"I swear," he vowed, looking straight into her eyes to emphasize just how sincere he was. Then, under the moon's slanted light and the stars' protection, they sealed the deal with a gentle peck on the lips. It wasn't like their previous one when their insides had almost spontaneously combusted from the heat awakened within. This one was soft, sweet and everything Caroline hadn't thought Klaus could be.

On his side, Klaus felt lighter than he had in years. Like a horrible weight that had been crushing him had slowly been lifted and left him yearning for more. Yearning to feel Caroline's skin linger on his, to taste her plump lips and drown himself in her jasmine perfume. He wanted the woman to touch each and every inch of him and clean him of all the disgusting grime and soil working with Mikael had left.

He wanted her to teach him how to feel again because maybe he actually could allow himself this much. It would be what Henrik and Marcel would have wanted and with Lucien in prison and no sign of Finn or Mikael perhaps he actually could start anew with the outstanding woman willing to take him in and make him a human being again.

One thing was certain: he would try.

"I will always be by your side if you want me to, Caroline. Always and forever," and those family words felt as real with Caroline as they did with his siblings.

"In that case, I guess we'll never part," she jokingly added, but meant every single word and they knew it.

Then, hand in hand, for the first time as real lovers, they silently made their way through a sleeping Mystic Falls towards Caroline's apartment, both exhausted and desperate for some rest, enveloped in each other's arms hoping their embrace would keep nightmares at bay. Nightmares that had also graced Caroline lately and for which she hadn't yet found a cure. And she didn't even dare think of Klaus's night terrors for they still left a bitter taste in her mouth, still feeling a phantom chokehold cutting off her air supply.

It was so quaint, the small town's empty streets seeming unreal after New Orleans' hustle and bustle. Yet, Klaus did not feel right. The second they'd entered the main street, the hairs on the back of his head had stood up and he'd gotten the distinct feeling that somebody was watching him. He'd shaken it off as being jittery after relieving his past, but had picked up his pace nonetheless, protectively tightening his grip on the unassuming woman, casting worried glances around, but coming up empty.

He was probably being paranoid, but he still hurried even further when the bad feeling only amplified, his instincts screaming that he was not seeing something important. Truthfully, while in Caroline's presence his guard had been lower than ever and a man with a literal army of criminals on his heels could not afford to slip up.

Not when it could cost not only his life, but that of the woman he desperately longed to keep safe, nurture and never abandon.

By the time they reached her apartment building Klaus was ready to explode, dread having formed a pit in his stomach which was slowly easing away as they stepped through the door and into the elevator. It had all been in his head, after all, thank God.

"Are you alright?" the woman asked, having noted her boyfriend's anxiety.

"Yeah, I…" he did not get to finish for the second the chrome door opened his eyes caught sight of something that did not belong in that hallway.

A bouquet of red roses had been deposited right on Caroline's door mat.

Roses- Aurora's favorite flowers.

Goosebumps marred his flesh, but he still tried to push through. Roses are very popular and there was no reason why they had to be connected. However hard he tried to calm his nerves, he could not though because his subconscious yelled that this could not be a coincidence. No matter how screwed up his head was, there was no way this was all a figment of his sick imagination.

"How sweet, someone left flowers for my mother," Caroline exclaimed before leading him to the innocent looking arrangement. Now, as he was staring straight at it, a detail he'd missed before jumped at him. A detail that made his blood run cold.

A single black rose resided right in the middle, a speck of darkness heavily contrasting against the crimson, lively ones. All doubt was erased from his mind and he was frozen in place, watching a bad movie unfold before him.

Caroline noted the weird color too, frowning before dropping to her knees and searching for a card. "Found it!" her victorious shout was interrupted by a wince. A thorn had gone straight through her thumb, but she merely wiped it down on her already soiled dress and opened the elegantly embellished envelope.

All color drained from her face as she skimmed over the calligraphic words. "I think it's for you," a shaking hand extended the piece of paper.

Truthfully, Klaus wanted to shred it to tiny, little pieces without reading the content, pull Caroline inside, bolt the door and pack a bag for her before whisking them to a place where nobody could find them. But it was too late for that now because they'd already been found. So he forced himself to absorb the words, ignoring the way he was trembling even more than the surgeon.

 _Niklaus_ , his stomach clenched at the appellative only Mikael used. _Lucien has already taken a pretty blonde from you and I would hate to see the same happen to poor Caroline. I mean, she's just lost her mummy, it wouldn't be fair for her to also lose her life. Yet, as I am sure you already know, life is not fair and you deserve none of my mercy. You know what's coming and you know you can't stop it. Soon, your sweet Caroline will be just like that one rose. Black, dull and lifeless, like everything you touch. I just wanted you to know it was me and you were helpless to stop me, like always. Enjoy what little time you have left for I will come to collect very, very soon. Remember, running is pointless for all roads will eventually lead you to me._

After he was done, the note slipped past his fingertips as a pair of jittery sapphires darted to every corner of the room, searching for any sign of an intruder only to come up empty. An attack wouldn't be coming tonight, when he was with his guard up.

Tonight had only been a warning. Mikael playing with his prey before wreaking hell on them.

The worst part was that he wasn't the only target in this cat and mouse game. Caroline had been pulled into it and by now it was too late to turn around, abandon her and hope it would alienate Mikael from her trail. After the display they'd put on, he might as well have painted a huge red mark on her forehead.

Images of Camille's bloodied and mangled corpse flashed before him. History did have a way of repeating itself, but in this scenario, he would rather die than allow any harm to befall the woman who had been stiff as a statue, watching his reaction.

In the end it was Caroline who had the guts to cut through the thick blanket of silence that had been laid upon them.

"It's Mikael, isn't it?"

A curt nod answered her question.

The monster behind all of Klaus's torment was now after her and from what she'd gathered in the cemetery, not much could stand between Mikael and his plans. The note which now rested at her feet contained her death sentence and she knew it. It figures that she'd also signed it with her own blood after having stung herself. The exhale she let out sounded pathetic to her own ears and she put a hand over her mouth to stifle it.

"Hey," Klaus's hands hovered in the air, hesitating to touch her. Did he think she would reject him because of this? She'd known all of this and had still jumped head first into this relationship with him and the feelings she carried for him were the one thing she was still sure of. Without any ounce of doubt, she caught his fingers and placed them atop her pounding heart as surely as she could.

"I will keep you safe, Caroline," he vowed. "I will not allow him to touch a hair on your head."

 _Don't make promises you can't keep,_ she bit her tongue to keep quiet. The thing is she wanted to believe him, but after what he'd said she was pretty sure nobody could stop Mikael when he set his mind to accomplish something. And if he wanted her dead, she was sure she would be very soon.

Another body for Klaus to incorrectly should the blame.

"I know," she responded instead, faking a smile and pulling him in for a desperate kiss as she fumbled with the keys before dragging them inside and locking the door three times, the words she hadn't uttered aloud creating a tidal wave inside her mind.

 _I know you will try and I know would you die trying, Klaus. But I don't want you to. I love you too much for that. Besides, I'm afraid we're both as good as dead anyway._

* * *

 **A/N: A massive, massive thank you to all of the people who left a review and added this story to their favourite/follow lists! It means the absolute world to me and you are the reason why I keep on writing. I really hope you liked this chapter. Honestly, it was really hard to write and I had to start over a few times just to get it somewhat right. I sincerely hope it did not let you down and that you enjoyed it. From the next chapter on, the action will pick up and I hope you will stick for what is coming.**

 **Once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart and if you have the time, let me know what you thought of this update.**


	19. Chapter 19

Paranoia.

A strange, overwhelming feeling.

A silent killer that erodes every hint of happiness, shrouding it with its veil of darkness. A feeling that slowly kills you from the inside by mustering image upon image of your greatest fear.

In Caroline case, that was undoubtedly the death and destruction that Mikael could wreak upon her and Klaus. The note he'd sent had been explicit enough for her to understand that she'd become a target just as much as Klaus.

Klaus- her new boyfriend.

The association of words still sounded strange and foreign to her own ears, but she knew she would slowly grow accustomed to it. If they had time to explore their new relationship. And that was a huge if, considering Klaus' shocking and horrifying confessions in the cemetery.

Mikael was not a man to be trifled with.

No, he was more like the monsters that one sees in movies or reads about in books all the while thinking that there was no way such darkness inhabited someone's heart. That it was purely creative embellishment on the author's part in order to draw an audience. However, Mikael was the living testimony that sometimes even the most outrageous works of fiction paled in comparison to reality.

Caroline shuddered to even think about what the hateful man could do to her. The images were so gruesome they left a sour taste in her mouth, yet they were all she could think about.

Ever since setting foot in her apartment following the discovery of the note, the blonde had not been able to focus on anything else. Even after Klaus had thoroughly canvased each room in search for an intruder and come up empty, Caroline's uneasiness had not subsided.

Not even the warm body that she was currently pressed against could manage to clear the demons haunting her.

While Klaus appeared to be peacefully sleeping next to her, the woman had experienced vivid versions of her own death. So far she'd gone through being stabbed, shot and disemboweled, but instead of taking a break her sick imagination continued to come up with even more creative scenarios such as being dissolved in acid or devoured by hungry, bloodthirsty hounds.

What made them so much worse was the high chance of one of them becoming real. Who could reassure her that the moment she stepped outside her apartment there wouldn't be someone with a knife or a gun waiting? Who could reassure her that a bomb wasn't waiting at her car?

Nothing seemed preposterous if she took into account Mikael's influence and power.

Still, she had a feeling that her death would not be quick, but rather a spectacle meant to utterly break Klaus.

If he managed by some stroke of luck to survive, would her demise be the final nail in his coffin? Would her loss tip him over the steep ledge that he'd been holding on to?

A whimper escaped her lips at the most likely answer to those questions and she immediately covered her mouth with trembling fingers, trying to stifle the sound and not wake Klaus up.

Her efforts proved to be in vain for his muscles immediately tensed, alert blue orbs scanning the room for any sign of danger. A tired sigh escaped his lips when he found none and Caroline cursed her pitiful self for having interrupted his peaceful slumber. She knew just how much he had needed it.

Suddenly feeling small, weak and downright pathetic, she buried her head in the crook of his neck basking in his musky aroma and willing the world to go away. Wordlessly pleading for him to drop it and go back to sleep.

Of course, there was no chance of that coming to pass as Klaus gently lifted her head, forcing her to look him in the eye.

Hating to feel so vulnerable in front of Klaus of all people, Caroline tried to shake him off, but he did not allow it, slightly tightening his hold on her.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" his sleep addled voice tore through the thick silence engulfing them.

"Nothing important," she lied. "Just go back to sleep."

Suffice it to say, he did not believe a word coming out of her mouth. "Caroline, please don't lie to me. I want to know what's bothering you so I can help fix it."

"You can't," her voice broke as her vision became blurry.

The woman could feel him stiffening at her words. She knew that this situation was taking just as much of a toll on him as on her.

"Is it Mikael?" Klaus finally asked.

She could easily lie and say that it was. In fact, it seemed like a more appealing alternative to telling Klaus that she was worried about what might happen to him should she die. She knew he would tell her not to worry about him, not in the slightest concerned with his future. But she was. And the saddest part was the she knew he would not understand her.

Mistaking her silence for a positive answer, Klaus spoke," Caroline, I promised that he would not touch you and I intend to stand by my oath, whatever it takes."

While she was sure that he'd believed his words would be reassuring, they instead opened an even greater can of worms. What if Klaus died while trying to protect her? What would she do in that case?

"That's what I'm worried about," she finally decided to voice some of her concerns before they finished gnawing at her insides.

Furrowed eyebrows and narrowed aquamarine eyes revealed just how much her statement had confused Klaus. Clearly, he cared so little for his own wellbeing that he could not even fathom what had her so upset.

Choosing to go about it like ripping off a band aid, Caroline said, "What if you die protecting me?" Now, that she had allowed something past her defenses, the dam broke and mostly everything came pouring out. "What if I have to watch Mikael kill you? What would I do afterwards?"

"You simply go on living."

To say his words shook her to the core would be an understatement, but what had her nearly pulling her hair out was the nonchalance with which he'd uttered them. Like his death was nothing more than a common event: like buying some milk from the store across the street or having your nails done. Like it was something easily forgettable and not very memorable. It awakened a stronger rage in her than even Mikael.

"Yes and how do you propose I do that?" Klaus merely shrugged angering the short-tempered woman even further. "Have you really not realized how much I care for you? Do you even understand what you're asking of me? Damn you, Klaus, you've lived such loss in your life, you're still haunted by it and you have the nerve to tell me to simply go on living? Like you have?"

At the reminder of the other people who'd died for him, Klaus had to avert his gaze for a moment in order to shake off any speck of vulnerability shining through. This was not the time for it. Not when Caroline's fears had a high chance of becoming reality. Risking a look, he was surprised to see the heartbreaking sliver of unshed tears in her glazed over emeralds.

He was the only one to blame for this pain.

He never should have gotten this close to her.

He'd known that he'd only hurt her in the end and he still had not been able to resist her magnetic pull. He still couldn't.

What he could do was ensure that she would have the will to survive even if he wasn't around. It was not something even up for discussion.

"Caroline, you'll do it because you are the strongest person I know, because you never give up in the face of adversity and you push yourself to overcome any challenge life throws your way."

"What if that's no longer enough?"

"Then you'll have to do it for me. You cannot allow my sacrifice to be in vain. If I die, you will live a full, happy life in my honor; you will find love again, travel the world and, most importantly, you will not allow me to become the dark cloud of guilt and regret following you around."

Everything he described was revealing the extent of his feelings for her. It revealed just how much she mattered to him, but it also revealed that he would not hesitate before laying down his life for hers. Even the thought had her barely containing her tears. Not wanting the stoic man to once more witness her weakness she buried her head in his shirt seconds before losing the battle and starting to weep.

"What if I don't have it in me? What if I can't do that?" she eventually croaked out.

"You have to. In fact, I want you to promise me right now that you will do everything I've just said."

Desperately, the blonde shook her head refusing to abide to his request. There was no way in hell that she was making such a promise. Not when she wasn't sure she would ever be able to fulfill it.

"Caroline, please," he murmured, his voice shaking slightly, revealing that she wasn't the only one deeply affected by their discussion. When she continued to keep quiet, he placed two fingers on the bottom of her chin and forced her to look in his eyes.

The unshed tears brimming in Klaus' blue orbs spoke more than any word could about his state. Furthermore, she'd always been able to read the emotions in them and now she could almost feel the hurt while they were pleading for her to agree.

She couldn't let him down. She couldn't allow for an even greater pain to make home in his bruised, beaten heart. Especially not if their time would be so abruptly and unfairly cut short.

"I promise," she finally caved in, resenting those two words and their binding power more than anything in her entire life.

"Thank you," he breathed out a sigh of relief, letting her head plop back down on his shoulder as he lovingly kissed the top of her head.

What Caroline could not understand was how Klaus expected her to simply brush off their time together and go about her life as if they hadn't met. Could anyone who'd felt even half of the love she did ever do that?

As the tips of his fingers softly caressed her skin, Caroline contemplated the question and the only answer she had was that it was impossible. There was no way that anybody in love could do such thing.

As dawn started to crack, the first beams of sun found them in the exact position, neither having been able to go back to sleep. Finally, the woman could not take it anymore.

"Don't you ever dare make me have to fulfill that promise. I will, you know I will, but I swear I will never forgive you for it."

As she tightened her hold on him, Klaus remained quiet.

His silence spoke more than a thousand words ever could. It clearly answered her.

The only problem was that it wasn't an answer she liked.

* * *

As days rolled by, Caroline's nerves somewhat settled down as she got herself back into a certain routine. She'd returned to the hospital, reconnected with Bonnie and Elena and her relationship with Klaus was going well. There'd been no sign of Mikael and she'd almost started to dare pray that he'd taken pity on them or, more likely, found a more worthy outlet for his anger.

Suffice it to say, Klaus could not disagree more. In fact, he was going above and beyond with his oath to protect her, becoming downright suffocating. Each morning, he would drive her to the hospital and dutifully be there when her shift ended to pick her up.

He had turned into her shadow, following her everywhere she went.

What was worse, other than work, he'd practically confined them to her apartment. Not even once in two weeks had they gone out to grab a bite to eat, see a movie or even go for a walk.

Realistically, she knew his approach was the right one, but she was close to going crazy. More so because his worries had transpired on to her, preventing her from forgetting about the sword hanging over her head for even a minute. She constantly found herself looking over her shoulder, feeling somebody watching her and even doubting every new person she came into contact with, fearing they were one of Mikael's minions, fearing that they were there to either slaughter or maim her.

The only person who'd managed to slip past her defenses had been Frank, one of the newest hospital additions. He'd come to work there two weeks prior to her return to Mystic Falls with Klaus so Caroline had deduced that it cleared him from any suspicion.

Still, she'd chosen to keep her new friend a secret from her overprotective boyfriend, fearing that it might not go down well for her to be embarking on a new friendship when a powerful criminal was out to get her. She did not want to have an unnecessary fight ruin their momentary state of happiness. Not when it was already so frail, hanging by a thin, thin thread.

Today had been a relatively boring day, in which an emergency appendectomy had been the most exciting thing at the hospital and she was now changed back into her street clothes, ready for another night confined between the stifling walls of her apartment.

Biding goodbye to the nurses and doctors she encountered, Caroline stepped out into the brisk evening air, her eyes immediately landing upon the man waiting for her.

He was leaning against the car, wind messing with his sandy blonde hair, a sincere smile crossing his face at the sight of Caroline. The smiles had become more and more common these days while in her presence, obviously, and it tugged at her heartstrings to know that she was the main reason behind them.

It made every single of her fears and nightmares worth it.

"Hi," she greeted, wasting no time before pulling him in for a soft peck on the lips. That was the way in which they'd greeted each other lately and the only objection Caroline had was that the kisses were too quick, Klaus not wanting to make a show. Just in case there was anybody watching.

She'd accepted it without an issue these last few days, just like she'd accepted their exile from society, understanding that he only wanted to protect her.

Today though, something in her must have broken because she felt frustration start to seep into her bones. These could well be her last days, why did she have to spend them cowardly hiding instead of living her life to the fullest? Why did they have to give in to the fear that Mikael wanted to instill in them?

"Let's go out tonight."

The words had been spoken before she'd had a chance to think them over, but that did not make them any less sincere. On the contrary.

"Please," she added before he could get the opportunity to turn her down. Upon seeing the hesitation in his eyes, she pulled him in for a deeper kiss, knowing that it would somewhat weaken his resolve. "I'll go crazy if we stay one more night cooped up in that apartment."

She could see his determination weakening so she jumped in for the kill.

"If we continue to be prisoners in our own lives, we would be allowing Mikael to defeat us."

With that, she'd effectively managed to win this battle. Exhaling deeply, Klaus shook his head, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. He knew that Caroline could pretty much do whatever she wanted with him, but he also knew, to his defense, that there were few forces that could rival a determined Caroline Forbes.

"So, where are we going?" he asked the moment they'd both gotten into the car.

The blonde pondered for a moment before a smile crossed her face, rendering him weak. Caroline had the ability to light up an entire room with her laugh and, as a bonus, she could also light some of his darkest insides, bypassing all of his walls. Not that there were many of those left.

She'd taken care of bringing them all down.

"How would you feel about seeing a movie? There's a rerun of Beauty and the Beast at the cinema."

"No way," he swiftly responded.

"Come on," emerald puppy-dog eyes turned to him. "It's my favorite Disney story and I haven't had a chance to see the newest movie. Please, Klaus."

Once more he was powerless to say no, rolling his eyes, but turning the car around in the cinema's direction.

"Thank you," Caroline practically squealed, her pure happiness throwing him back in the past with Rebekah.

"It was my sister's favorite story growing up as well," he softly spoke, effectively silencing the blonde. The moments in which he willingly offered parts of himself were so rare that she'd grown to cherish them more than anything. "She had the same reaction whenever I or Elijah would agree to read her the story. Until Finn tore the book to shreds at Mikael's command. Apparently, Rebekah wasn't mature enough for her age and needed a lesson."

"I can't imagine my parents ever doing that to me," she sadly whispered. "This brother of yours, Finn, was he always such a bad person?"

Klaus' hands tightened up on the wheel at the reminder of his older half-brother.

"For as long as I can remember," he finally offered as a response. "He was the eldest son so I guess he always felt the need to live up to that title. Unfortunately, the only way he knew how to do that was by hurting the rest of us, just to impress Mikael. Is he bad to the core? I don't know, but I've never seen him show any positive feelings towards anybody."

Caroline didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound cheesy and cliché so she simply gave his hand a squeeze, conveying that he was no longer alone although his family was so far away and so split up. He had her.

The parking lot of the movie theatre was relatively empty; only four other cars were there and for a brief second, Caroline felt a shiver run down her spine. Instead of climbing out of the vehicle, something inside of her screamed to change her mind and go home.

Of course, true to Forbes fashion, the woman refused to give into her fear, instead clamping down on Klaus' hand, probably grabbing him in a bruising grip as she practically ran to the entrance. At his question, she shrugged off her attitude as due to the cold. Her frozen hands seconded her excuse, although the slightly chilly air had been the last reason behind them.

After they'd bought some popcorn and sodas and taken their seats in the center of the theater, Caroline could feel the pit of uneasiness start of uncoil. It had just been her imagination. Further putting her mind at ease, the only people in the audience were two families with very eager children who, magically, sat down in their chairs, silently enchanted by the 3D images rolling before their eyes.

Halfway through the movie, which she was sure Klaus was enjoying as well even though he would never admit, she reached for some more popcorn, but found none. When Klaus had gone to buy snacks, unease had prevented her from telling him just how starved she was after having skipped lunch at the hospital.

"I'm going to get some more popcorn," she whispered in his ear.

"I'll get it," he immediately offered, almost standing up.

"Don't be silly, it will literally take me 3 minutes to come back. It's not like somebody could kidnap me from the queue. Besides, you look like you are enjoying the movie," she smirked confidently." I'll be right back."

With a kiss on the cheek, she was well on her way to the snack vendor. In no time she'd placed her order, paid for it and received her change. She was already on her way inside, noting that it hadn't even taken 2 minutes when she noted a figure resting on the stairs of the cinema.

He was plopped down, head cradled in his hands, shoulders slightly shaking. Well, whoever it was, it was none of her business. Just as she was about to turn her back, she noted the white hospital robe he was wearing.

Was it one of her colleagues? Were they not feeling well?

Slowly, she inched closer, not stepping out of the safety of the cinema as she squinted to get a better look. Once she did, she recognized the silhouette within seconds. She knew him. He was her friend, not a threat.

Worry replaced weariness as she approached him.

"Frank, are you okay?" she voiced the second she'd opened the door, taking in his messy hair and the dejected look on his face.

"Caroline?" the man incredulously asked. "What are you doing here?"

"That's not important," she brushed off his question, being more concerned with what had him in that state. "What's wrong?"

"It's my mother," he shook his head, clearly affected. "She lives about 50 miles away from here. She's very sick and her doctor just called me to let me know she's in the hospital. I was on my way to see her when my tire exploded. The mechanic is not answering and the man at the cinema told me he can't help me. I have to get to her, Caroline. I have to," his words had become more and more frantic.

Immediately the woman remembered her own dying mother in the hospital and the desperation she'd lived through. Only imagining the she would not have been able to get to her had her breaking out in cold sweat.

"I know Klaus has a spare in his car," she ransacked the pockets of the jacket Klaus had lent her when she'd complained about the cold. "Here they are!" she exclaimed victoriously when her fingers wrapped around the keys. "Come with me."

Leading him to the car, she opened the trunk. "Get it yourself; I'd help you, but I don't want to drop the popcorn."

However, Frank didn't do as she said. He didn't even move from behind her. Instead he remained close to her; so close that she could feel him breathing down her neck. Truthfully, he was scaring her, not that she would ever admit it. She was probably being silly and paranoid yet again.

"Frank?" she tried again. "Come on, I'm missing out on the movie and Klaus is probably getting impatient."

A dry laugh was her answer as the man made no move towards the trunk.

"Imagine how impatient he'll become when you _never_ come back again."

That had not been the voice of the man she'd become friends with. That was a voice that lacked any kind of basic humanity. It was a voice brimming with malice.

Just as a sharp pain erupted from the back of her head, Caroline realized that there had been no Frank. She'd been a fool and fallen straight into Mikael's trap.

 _I'm so sorry, Klaus._

Darkness engulfed her and in a matter of seconds, she'd been tossed in a black SUV, the only evidence that Caroline Forbes had ever been in the parking lot being the scatted popcorn and the few, small drops of blood on the cold, dirty pavement.

* * *

 **I don't even know how to apologize for the delay, but my life has been downright crazy. I've had to fight for a scholarship and also had to face the prospect of failing 4 exams and juggling a job to deal with tuition fees. I know that is no excuse, but I really tried to get this story updated multiple times, but the words simply weren't coming to me. A massive, massive thank you to anybody who is still ready this story- if there is anybody left- and I hope you liked this chapter and that I did not disappoint entirely. We are coming closer to the ending of this story and the next few chapters will be crazy. Once more, thank you and have a wonderful week!**


	20. Chapter 20

Minutes had slowly trickled by and the empty seat next to Klaus had started to deafeningly shout at him. No longer was he entranced by the story depicted in the movie, but he was rather staring at the entrance, waiting for Caroline to come back. Waiting for the woman who'd managed to sway his entire world to return, flashing that blinding smile as if the sword of Damocles did not constantly hang over their heads. As if he hadn't unconsciously lured her into a dangerous dance with death itself.

However, she was nowhere to be seen. In fact, as he'd gotten more and more restless, he'd started counting the seconds gone by in which Caroline had not returned. So far he'd gotten at 267.

Still no trace of Caroline.

He'd even tried to listen for any sign of an argument between the feisty blonde and either a person at the queue or the cashier that might explain her lateness, but the loud movie permitted no outer sound to penetrate the projection room.

Once 400 seconds had gone by, the gaping hole next to him had become impossible to ignore. Nor could he drown out the petty voice in his head screaming that something horrible was bound to have happened. Hastily standing up, Klaus all but ran out of the movie theatre throwing a murderous glare at a mother who'd dared complain about him blocking her child's view. Suffice it to say, the poor woman had been immediately silenced and he effectively exited the loud theatre, slamming the door with all of his might.

She had to be outside. She had to. The alternative was too sickening to consider.

With a sinking heart he noted that the cashier was squinting at his phone, taking advantage of the lack of customers. However that only meant that Caroline was not there.

Where could she be?

Maybe she'd felt unwell and gone to the bathroom.

Not wasting another second, he darted towards the bored young man, ripping the device from his hands. "Have you seen a blonde woman, about 25 years old, wavy hair and green eyes?" he all but shouted ignoring the angry protests as they slowly died down upon grasping the magnitude of the man's despair.

"Yeah, she was here a couple of minutes ago. Ordered a medium popcorn."

"Do you know where she went after that?"

The bathroom, it had to be the bathroom. Caroline would not be foolish enough to step foot outside, this late and alone. Not after all he'd told her. There was no way even she would be that foolhardy.

"Outside," the cashier tore whatever hope he'd dared harbor to tiny little shards. "I think she saw somebody she knew by the entrance and went to greet them."

Immediately mercury eyes drifted towards the glass door, only to find it shrouded in darkness and completely void of any sign of human life. The cinema employee apparently did the same, helplessly shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, man, but I did not see her afterwards. However…" he hesitated for a split second. "I think the guy she saw was a doctor or at least was wearing a white robe and he appeared quite upset, to be honest."

"Did you see his face?"

At the apologetic shake of the head, Klaus felt like the Earth had just opened and swallowed him whole. There was no pertinent reason why a medic would be lingering outside the door to the cinema this late into the night. Furthermore, there was no reason why Caroline would go with him and forget to let Klaus know. She was reckless, he knew that, but she was also not suicidal and highly intelligent. So Mikael had to have tricked her into accompanying him.

But how? And more importantly, how had he even gotten this close to her when Klaus was supposed to have been protecting her? Could it be that Mikael was destined to win every single confrontation between them? No, he couldn't afford his mindset to slip into defeat. Not while the war with his stepfather was still raging on. Not with Caroline's life on the line.

Pulling himself together, he sprinted out of the theater, the cold air harshly biting his skin, but he barely noticed. All he could think about was Caroline.

A quick sweep of the parking lot revealed that it was utterly void of any human being and, at first he couldn't make out anything remotely out of place.

But then he saw it.

In the beginning, what drew his attention was the opened trunk of his car. He always locked up after himself- years of constantly looking over your shoulder did that to someone's habits. Tonight had been no different. He was sure. The second thing that he spotted was scattered popcorn and only once he'd approached the scene did he note the final, sickening detail.

Specks of fresh blood marred the pavement, removing any lingering doubts from his mind. Briefly hesitating, Klaus got down on his haunches, dipping the tips of his fingers into the liquid. Still warm, still fresh.

If only he'd listened to his gut sooner. He might have been able to prevent this.

A chill ran through his body at the thought of what Mikael could be doing to Caroline in that very instant. The man never ran short of torture methods and to imagine him exacting them on the purest of souls was a cruelty that tore at the very seams of his heart. And it was all because of him. If only he'd stayed away none of this would be happening.

If he hadn't selfishly allowed himself to love, none of this would be occurring.

Risking one glance at his hand, a wave of nausea hit him head on. Caroline's blood was coating his skin. He'd failed at protecting her just like he'd failed at protecting everybody important in his life.

He knew he had no chance of finding Mikael if the man did not wish to be found. His hands were tied, he was at the mercy of the man he'd once called father and, the worst part of it all was that Caroline was the one who would be paying for all of his mistakes.

Why was it that he always ended up with blood on his hands?

The man had no idea how long he'd stayed on the ground, paralyzed with fear and helplessness. All he knew was that a full moon was shining bright above his head, engulfing him with its cold halo and that the few remaining cars in the parking lot had cleared up.

So lost had he been in the labyrinth of his mind that he hadn't even noticed the movement.

With a start, he realized that he'd also lost precious time. Time in which Caroline could have been viciously hurt.

Snapping back into action, slipping back into old Klaus's calculating mindset when he received a task, he violently closed the trunk and ran into the driver's seat. He had to do something. Moping around was unacceptable. Not while life still coursed through the blonde's veins. And he had to assume that to be the case.

Barely had he exited the parking lot that his phone beeped, announcing a text message. He knew before opening it just who had sent it.

Mikael was back at playing his sadistic games.

As expected, the sender's ID was a blocked number. What was surprising was that no text accompanied it. It looked like an empty message. Perhaps it had been sent to taunt him. Show just who had the upper hand and dictated the rules.

But then he saw the file attached at the bottom. An image that took forever to download and slowly, pixel by pixel, fill the screen.

When it did, Klaus had to violently slam on the brakes just to avoid driving straight into a parked Volvo.

A picture of him and Caroline in front of the hospital, passionately kissing, oblivious to the world around them glared back at him, their outfits taunting him. There was no mistaking it: this picture was taken today, barely a few hours ago and he had been completely unaware of the surveillance detail placed on them.

Caroline had made him lower his guard so much he'd wanted nothing more than to have a normal life with her and he'd allowed himself to get lost in that dream.

It may as well have cost him the woman's life.

Only once he'd managed to somewhat gather himself did he spot the pitch black caption on the bottom of the screen.

 _Did you really think you would be allowed to have this, you foolish boy?_

Unwillingly, the man recoiled at the last two words, his father's heavily accented voice screaming them in his mind. He'd heard them enough times for them to always haunt him. He could never truly escape them, just like he could never truly try to live a somewhat normal life with Mikael still living. If he wanted to ever be with Caroline, he had to put an end to this. He had to end Mikael.

At least he now knew the game the older man was playing. He would taunt Klaus with what he used to have and then rip it all away. Phase one had only just begun so that gave him a few hours to try and find him. A few hours to try and prevent another tragedy from gracing the Mikaelson family, painting its history an even darker shade of red.

How he would accomplish that was a mystery though. The criminal organization Mikael had built was so extensive, had its tentacles weaved into every possible law enforcement agency, even private contractors balked at the name and refused to be of any help.

No, Klaus was on his own, just as he'd been all of his life.

" _No, you are not, brother. Forever and always."_

The familiar voice echoed in his head for a good thirty minutes before he dared acknowledge it. Deep down he knew that he was not alone. He knew that there were people in this world who would come running to help him in spite of all of the risks.

The question was whether Klaus was willing to put them all in jeopardy.

In the end, desperation won and he found himself dialing a number he still knew by heart after all of these years. A number that he hoped hadn't changed. For the first time in a long while, Klaus could finally admit that he needed somebody's help.

After nearly a minute of senseless ringing, just as he was on the verge of hanging up, a groggy voice answered.

"Hello?"

That one question was enough to take Klaus' world by storm. Never had he imagined he would hear that calm, soothing voice again. He wasn't sure he deserved to. After all, he was poison to everybody that came remotely near him.

"Hello, who is this?"

A choked sob escaped his lips as the man on the other end of the line was threatening to end the call. Immediately he bit his lip, to keep another sound from rasping through, revealing his identity, but it was too late. He could tell by the sharp inhale.

"Niklaus?" the voice incredulously asked, a flicker of hope laced within it.

And just like that, Klaus could no longer bring himself to press the red button and shut himself off from family again. Being alone all the time was tiring and he frankly was exhausted of fighting on his own all of the damned time.

"Brother, is it truly you? Please, say something, anything."

Never one to let down his kin, Klaus tried to compose himself, gather his wits and not sound on the point of losing it. Only once he was sure he would not shamefully break down did he venture to respond.

"Yes, Elijah."

Two words, but they had taken everything out of him. Two words and they had depleted his last reserves of fuel and crushed his last walls.

"Brother!" Elijah all but screamed into the phone and Klaus could hear happy tears through the receiver. "I never thought I would get to hear your voice again."

"Sincerely, I wasn't planning on it either."

The sharpness of the words did not deter the older brother in the slightest. "Rebekah had told me that you were well and that was enough for me. I did not want to come barging into your life if you did not wish it, brother."

"You know why we couldn't stay together, Elijah. You saw what Mikael was capable of doing to the people I cared about. I could not put you in danger."

"But that should have been my choice, Niklaus. You should not have taken it away from me."

"Elijah," Klaus interrupted his older brother's tirade. "You had to stay with Rebekah and Kol. They needed you more than I did and I do not regret my choice of walking away. What I do regret is taking Henrik with me."

"Brother, you cannot seriously think what happed to Henrik was your fault."

"It was. He was so young," the man swallowed the lump in his throat. "He should have been in medical school instead of following me into a war he had no business fighting."

"It was his choice, brother and I am sure he did not regret it. Niklaus, you are not to blame for what happened to Henrik or for any of my father's victims."

"Aren't I, Elijah? Did I not kill some of them with my own two hands? Tell me, do I not bring death to all of the people close to me? Do I not lead them to their own ruin?"

Before he'd even realized, Klaus had started shouting, helpless tears running down his face. He was no longer referring only to the past, but also to the present and the bleak future.

Sensing his brother's anguish, Elijah softened his tone. "Brother, what's truly going on? Why are you calling?"

"I need your help, Elijah," Klaus admitted, voice crackling miserably. "He's taken her. Mikael has Caroline and he's going to kill her."

"Who is Caroline? Why would father kill her? Brother you are not making any sense."

"Because I love her," he finally said the words aloud, perhaps too late for the one person who mattered to hear them. "And because he loves hurting me."

That explanation was apparently enough for Elijah who immediately asked, "Brother, where are you? I am on my way to help you."

"Mystic Falls. I am in Mystic Falls, just hurry Elijah. I don't know how much time she's got left."

Hanging up, Klaus slammed his head on the steering wheel, welcoming the dull throb of pain. He deserved this and more. Not only had he failed to protect Caroline, but he'd also dragged Elijah back into this mess even when Rebekah had told him his older brother had managed to crawl out of the dark world to which both Klaus and Mikael were condemned.

Right then his phone announced the arrival of another message from Mikael. It was another photograph that he reluctantly opened, knowing this it would not be such a nice photograph as before. However, he had not been prepared for the gruesome sight greeting him.

He had not been prepared for Mikael to move this fast. He had not been prepared for such cruelty.

With the pace in which the other man was advancing, this could all be over before Elijah even got to Mystic Falls.

Klaus was running out of moves and Caroline was running out of time while Mikael kept slowly but steadily stripping him of all that he cared of. He was keeping his promise to destroy Klaus. The fact was that the younger man had never expected it to hurt this much. Every hit and blow that Caroline suffered, he felt ten times worse. Every blemish on her porcelain skin was a jagged slash on his heart.

And he would have given everything to be able to switch places with her, offer God or the Devil or whomever was listening his life in exchange for hers. But he couldn't. His hands were impotently tied behind his back and all he could do was stare at the photo glaring back at him, until it had gotten to be too much to handle. Furiously, Klaus threw the phone away and let out a gut-wrenching scream of powerlessness.

Meanwhile, in a damp, cold basement somebody was maniacally laughing as they carved another cut into ivory skin, fingers running down the pale, naked body of a whimpering Caroline Forbes.

The deadliest game of them all had begun and nobody was prepared for it. Nobody but Mikael and his acolytes.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for the response I got from my previous chapter. This was a bit short, but that was the way it had to be in order to set things in motion for the rollercoaster that is to come next. I hope you enjoyed it and if you have the time, please let me know what you thought of it.**


	21. Chapter 21

Cold.

She was so incredibly cold.

A dim light shone above her head as Caroline Forbes fought to crack open her lids. It turned out to be quite the fight as they felt like they'd been turned into lead. Finally, on the third attempt, she managed to pry them open and keep them that way.

Immediately, wide, green orbs darted around trying to grasp the surroundings.

Where was she?

What had happened?

And more importantly, why did her head feel like bombs were going off inside of it?

While she struggled to remember, Caroline risked another look around. She appeared to be in a damp, cold basement, with no windows, molded walls and a string of leaking pipes in the corner accounting for the only sound she could make out: an annoying dripping that could drive almost anybody insane. In fact, now that she had gotten a better hold of her bearings, she could discern that her hands were tightly tied to one of the rusted metal poles.

How had she ended up in this situation?

Panic was starting to make itself known and the woman had to inhale and exhale deeply a few times in order to keep the anxiety attack at bay. It was the last thing she needed. No, for her to get out of here, she had to keep her wits.

But, first things first, she had to remember how she'd ended up here in the first place.

Closing her eyes, Caroline went over the last thing she recalled- a movie. She'd convinced Klaus to go see one -"Beauty and the Beast" of all movies. A miracle that she still could not believe she'd accomplished. Then… she'd gone out to grab some popcorn…

Frank.

He'd been outside and asked for her help and she, like the dumb girl she was, had believed his ridiculous sob story. God, she'd been so stupid!

Desperate tears were threatening to take over at the reminder of her idiocy. She'd walked right into Mikael's trap. She'd made it so spectacularly easy. Just like those characters she always loved to criticize in books and movies. Who'd have ever thought she'd end up becoming one of them? God sure loved his irony, didn't he?

However, that was done with and she had to move past it and focus on finding a way out of this wretched place. And now that she stopped to think, there was something that did not make sense: Frank. He was too young to be Klaus' stepdad. Yet the hatred with which he'd looked at her had been much more than she'd expect from a mindless lackey.

No, there was something she was missing, a detail that she was overlooking. But it didn't matter. She could figure it out later. Firstly, she had to get out of there before Frank, or whatever the hell his name was, returned.

Biting back a wince as she lifted her head to get a better look at the knot around her wrists, Caroline finally noticed the small trail of blood slowly running down her neck. It was probably just a mild concussion caused by the blunt force trauma to the head, but it definitely explained the dizziness, weakness and pain.

But those could be ignored, had to be ignored until she was away from this place and, hopefully, in Klaus' arms. With that image in mind, the woman began tugging at her restraints, mouth tightly shut, teeth grinding as the rope started digging into her skin.

With each and every pull, the strings cut deeper and deeper into her flesh, but didn't elsewhere budge. All she'd accomplished, she noted frustrated, was to peel away her first layer of skin, a small trickle of crimson rolling down her forearms.

This was pointless!

Whoever had tied her up had known perfectly well what they were doing and there would be no miraculous escape. Not by her anyway. Perhaps someone with Klaus' background could improvise something, but 10 years of medical training did nothing to prepare her for liberate herself from a deranged psychopath. It was pointless to continue wasting energy on something impossible.

As the gravity of her predicament finally dawned on her, Caroline could feel the warm prickle of tears. Desperation was starting to rear its ugly face and the doctor did not know how much longer she could keep it at bay.

Images of Klaus' past flashed before her eyes. His father torturing him. Burning him with a cigarette. Forcing his little brother to shoot him. If he'd been able to do that to a boy he'd watched grow up and treated like a son, what would he do to her?

A choked sob escaped her lips at the realization of just what was awaiting her. She was not as strong as Klaus. She could not survive something like that. However, she quickly rationalized, she probably would not have to. Mikael would kill her before the opportunity of breaking free ever arose. He'd most likely learned the lesson from past experience and would not stand by as another one of his prisoners escaped.

This was the end of the line for her, she could feel it. And to think she would die before saying goodbye to Klaus, Elena, Bonnie and all of her other friends. It hurt so much that she could no longer swallow back the tears that started falling freely down her cheeks, violent sobs wracking her body.

She must have been making more noise than she'd originally believed because footsteps got closer and closer to the basement's door. Her captors must have heard the ruckus she'd been making and decided to grace Caroline with their presence.

Then and there, with rivulets running down her face, Caroline realized that she did not want to be the weak, insignificant girl who cowered at Mikael's feet. She wanted to be someone Klaus would be proud of. Someone who did not show weakness, but rather bravely faced all life had in store for her, just like he had.

And she would be that person until they killed her, for they would have to drain every drop of life from her body before she gave up. Never had she been a quitter and this was not the moment when that would be changing.

Pursing her lips and blinking away any residual tears, Caroline steeled herself for what was to come. No sooner had she managed to clear her vision than the door was slammed open and none other than Frank started to slowly go down the stairs.

Only this was not the Frank she'd grown to know.

Gone was the white, medical robe and sympathetic, kind smile. They had been replaced by a crisp, black suit and a malevolent smile. His hazel green eyes no longer radiated warmth, but they rather chilled her to the core.

"You're finally awake," he had effectively managed to reach her. "I was starting to worry I might have hit you too hard."

"And you wouldn't want that, would you?" she could not help throwing back, cringing at the croakiness of her voice.

"Of course not, Caroline," a shiver went down her back at the way he spoke her name. "I want you to be fully awake for what's coming."

The words had sounded ominous enough for the woman to choose not to focus on them. She was good at talking; she'd always been good at talking. Perhaps she could distract him long enough for somebody to come looking for her- for Klaus to come looking for her. He was her only hope. So she had to try and stall.

"Who are you?" she asked as confidently as she could manage. "I know you can't be Mikael. So who are you? Just some deluded henchman who thinks he'll get a reward for capturing someone you believe Klaus cares about?"

"You are right that I am not Mikael, but you couldn't be more wrong about everything else," he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"No, I am not," Caroline resiliently moved as far away from him as the rope allowed. "Klaus is too smart to ever fall into yours or Mikael's trap. Having me here is pointless and will get you nowhere," she laughed in his face, hoping to plant the seed of doubt in him. Mikael didn't appear anywhere in sight and if this man did not know Klaus enough, he might start second guessing his plan. It was the only thing that crossed her tired, foggy mind.

"I might have believed you, you're not half bad at deceit," the man's green eyes flashed dangerously. "However, there is a problem with your attempt. You see, I know Niklaus more than you think. In fact, I might know him better than you do, sweet, innocent Caroline. I have seen the darkest sides that my brother has kept veiled from you so far. I have witnessed the monster within."

How could that be possible? She knew Klaus and she had experienced first handedly how hard it was for him to allow somebody in. So how could a vile lackey of Mikael's know him so well? It was impossible unless…

He was no ordinary lackey.

"You're Klaus' older brother," she weakly mumbled.

"Bingo," her captor grinned wickedly. "He picked a smart one, Niklaus." As he said that, his fingers trailed down her cheek, leaving frozen skin in their wake. "Finn Mikaelson at your orders, Caroline."

Finn Mikaelson.

With those two words, he'd managed to squash every remnant of hope she'd had lingering about the possibility of escaping. Klaus had told her about him. Briefly, but enough for her to have grasped his malice, his hatred towards his half-brother, but also his intelligence and cunning nature.

"You know, I'm surprised that he even spoke to you about me. He rarely does."

"Well, having an insane older brother is not exactly a source of pride, is it, Finn?"

The woman regretted the words the second they'd left her lips, but by then it was too late. She'd grown to hate Finn from Klaus' story and having him in front of her had dredged all of it up. She'd been thrown back to the countless times in which Finn had pounced at the opportunity to hurt Klaus, at how he'd mercilessly hunted him and Henrik down at the orders of Mikael. She'd remembered the pure agony in her boyfriend's eyes as he'd told her all of his past and she couldn't bite down on her words.

Suffice it to say, the hit had been expected. However, its force had not. The entire left side of her face felt like it was on fire, a pungent, metallic taste invading her mouth. Quickly, she checked that all of her teeth were still in place before snapping her head back, glaring straight at Finn.

"You'd do better to watch your words carefully, Caroline. I do not possess my brother's foolish sentiments and you do not want to push me."

"Why? You're going to kill me anyway." she furiously spit out the blood swimming in her mouth at his feet in one more act of pure defiance. She knew she was going to die in this basement; the least she could do was refuse to bow down and be the obedient prisoner he wanted.

"Oh, dear Caroline," he grabbed her by the hair, pulling it back and forcing her to stare into his heinous eyes. "There are many ways to die and, trust me, I know the most horrendous ones. It would be a shame for you to… experience them."

The veiled threat had chilled her to the bone. She knew he was not making idle threats, but she also knew that she could not back down. He could not be allowed to believe he'd broken her. She would not give him that. It was the last thing she could offer Klaus, even if he would never know it.

"I am not afraid of you," she forced out, thanking the Universe for miraculously keeping her voice steady.

"You should be."

With that, he unexpectedly, stepped away, making his way towards a small wooden table in the corner of the room. Confused, the blonde watched as he carefully took off his jacket, revealing a white, silk shirt. Then, he reached into a cardboard, dirty maroon box, a clattering metallic sound rasping through to the blonde.

What was he doing?

Shadows had partly enveloped him so the doctor could not accurately make out what it was that he'd pulled out, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know anyway.

Maybe God would take mercy on her and grant her a small reprieve from his wrath. Perhaps a phone would start ringing or a crazy ex-girlfriend would come barging in. She really wasn't picky when it came to distractions. Anything would suffice, even a call from Mikael himself if it could somehow delay the agony she knew was rapidly heading her way.

However, that did not turn out to be the case, as Finn finally stepped back into the precarious light, humming quietly as he got nearer and nearer. The serenity with which he was approaching was unnerving and so was the dangerous glint in his green eyes.

He was done messing around.

Gulping, she allowed her gaze to travel south and land on the object clutched tightly in his palm. She wished she hadn't.

A knife.

He was holding a knife and smiling like it was a bouquet of flowers or a box of chocolates.

At the sight, all biting words abandoned her as she tried to somewhat calm her pounding heart. She could hear its furious pumping echo loudly in her ears, drowning out all other sounds of the world around.

Her time was up.

She'd managed to anger him enough that he would kill her in that very instant.

"What's the matter, Caroline. Cat got your tongue?"

She wanted nothing more than to find a witty retort, but nothing came. All that she could focus on was the way she could see her own reflection in the knife's blade. Wide, green eyes, mouth gaping open and pale as a blank sheet of paper.

It was too much.

She couldn't take it anymore, so she turned her head away, averting her gaze.

A delighted chuckle let her know that her action had not gone unnoticed. "It finally dawned on you, didn't it? You finally realized that I can do whatever I want with you and nobody, not even my dear brother, can stop me. You're at my mercy," the knife slowly traced her cheekbone, venturing lower and lower and reaching her throat. "Unfortunately for you, nobody succeeded in teaching me the meaning of that word."

With no further warning, the blade pressed down on her skin, drawing the first speck of blood. However, Finn pulled away almost immediately, not venturing any deeper than a small flesh wound. For a fleeting moment, Caroline dared hope that he'd managed to learn the definition after all when she felt the knife ebb away at the cotton material of her shirt.

He was toying with her.

Just like one would taunt a caged animal by opening the door only to slam it shut in its face the second it started moving towards freedom.

Not a fan of wasting precious time, Finn had effortlessly removed her garment, leaving her clad in only her bra and jeans. The sharp sting of humiliation tore Caroline apart from the inside, but the worst part of it all was the pure impotence. She was powerless at stopping him. He could virtually do whatever he pleased with her.

And that's precisely what he did, peppering her entire torso with little, shallow wounds. Caroline had lost count at number seven, but she was sure they were well past 10 and Finn showed no sign of stopping.

Her midsection felt like it was on fire, blood seeping out of nearly every inch of skin and the woman could feel her grip on reality start to slip. Her body could not take much more of this abuse and she was veering closer and closer towards unconsciousness. Yet, she clawed tooth and nail to remain awake and aware of what the man was doing to her. If there was one thing she was grateful for, it was that he'd shown no desire of wanting to rape her.

Being raped by Klaus' brother was something she could not stomach. Something that would send her plummeting down the steep, precarious ledge she was still holding on to.

A small whimper left her mouth and the woman could barely believe that the weak, hoarse sound had come from her. It had sounded way too pathetic even to her own ears.

"I think this is enough for my first surprise," Finn dragged her back to the world of the living. "Smile for the camera, _sweetheart_."

Camera? What camera was he talking about?

Forcing half-lidded eyes open, Caroline finally understood. He was taking her picture. Probably to send it to Klaus and lure him into their trap. God, she shuddered only at thinking what a pitiful sight she must account for with blood practically oozing out of every pore of her body.

"What I would give to see Niklaus' face when he receives this photo."

And that confirmed her theory. They were simply using her to draw him to them. He'd been evading their grasps for so long that they had to make Klaus come to them. And she was the reason why he would.

"He'll never fall into your trap, Finn," she murmured with all of the strength left in her body. "Not even for me."

"We'll see about that."

The sound of one more photo being snapped was the last thing Caroline remembered before she completely lost the fight and succumbed to tiredness and blood loss. That and the prayer she sent to whoever was listening, begging for Klaus not to come for her.

There was no reason why they should both die.

* * *

Klaus slammed the door to his car as he got out in front of the hospital where Caroline worked. He'd decided to try his luck and maybe convince someone to allow him to have a look at the surveillance cameras' recordings. Maybe he could find something there leading him to where Mikael was hiding like the sadistic coward he'd always been. Evading him had been all Klaus had tried to do since he'd lost every single thing that mattered to him. But he hadn't done it out of fear of his stepfather. No, the younger man had never truly cowered at the crime lord's feet like the rest of the world had.

The only reason why Klaus had held back was because of his siblings. He had not wanted them to pay the steep price of his actions so he'd remained in the shadows, keeping everyone at a safe distance from the death he wreaked all around him. Until Caroline had barged into his life with her crazy revenge plan and turned it all around, making him feel emotions he'd run from for years. Emotions that he hadn't thought himself capable of experiencing and that had left him exposed and vulnerable.

And now Mikael had found Klaus' weak spot and, worst of all, he knew that perfectly well and was taking advantage of the situation, playing Klaus like a violin to the dark tune he'd chosen.

The prepaid phone he'd stopped at the gas station to buy beeped in his pocket announcing a new text message.

 _Boarding the plane now. Do not do anything foolish before I get there to help you, brother. Please._

Elijah sure had a way of attempting to boss him around even after all these years. He still hadn't learned that it was pointless. If he found a lead, he was sure as Hell going to follow it. Caroline would not spend a second more than absolutely necessary in that deranged man's grip. Not if Klaus had a way of preventing that.

Jogging to the front office, Klaus stopped in front of the young, brunette woman who was engulfed in a thick manila file. She couldn't have been more than 21, with her hair up in a tight ballerina bun and light pink lipstick coating her thin lips.

"Hello, Sir, can I help you?" kind brown eyes turned to look at the disheveled man posted in front of her desk. "Are you looking for a patient?"

Seeing the concern embedded in her orbs, Klaus decided to abandon all lies and just be honest, hoping that would be enough to get her help. He wasn't sure he would be able to come up with anything remotely convincing anyway.

"No," he shook his head in an attempt to clear it of the million different sick scenarios running through his mind. "Do you know Caroline Forbes?"

"Of course," the receptionist's eyebrows furrowed while she took him in." Wait a second…I know you! You are her boyfriend. I've seen you pick her up at least a dozen times but," the triumphant glint started to be replaced by worry. "You guys already left at least three hours ago. Why are you back here alone? What's wrong?"

"Look," he stole a quick look at her nametag, "Rebecca, what I am about to tell you will sound crazy, but I'm asking you to please trust that I'm only telling you the truth, ok?" After a weak nod, Klaus went on. "A really, really bad person has taken Caroline and I need your help to try and bring her back safe and sound."

For a moment all that his words received was silence as Rebecca was clearly processing the implications of his last sentence.

"Why not go to the police?" she finally questioned.

"Trust me, they cannot help her; this man has been on the F.B.I's most wanted list for more than 5 months since he escaped from a maximum security prison. No one has come even close to apprehending him because he has at least half of the police force on his payroll and the other half is way too afraid to cross him."

"Then how can you help her on your own?"

"Because I am the one he truly wants to hold captive. Caroline is just a means to an end for him." Those words left a bitter taste in Klaus' mouth and he had to force back bile as the last picture he'd received crossed his mind. "Please, Rebecca, help me bring her back unharmed."

No more than 5 seconds had gone by before a determined look replaced the worried, fearful one. "Ok, what do you need?"

Five simple words.

That was all that Rebecca had said, but it had been enough to reignite hope in Klaus' battered heart.

"Can you help me access the surveillance footage the hospital cameras captured?"

Munching down on her bottom lip, the woman contemplated his request. "Normally, I am not allowed access over there, but I think I could work something out. Just give me a minute."

Klaus wanted to scream that Caroline might not have a minute, but he bit down on his tongue before he could scare away the only person in this building who appeared willing to help him.

However, that became exponentially harder when the receptionist took out a bolder, red lipstick, applying a hefty amount before brushing her hair and spraying nearly half a bottle of perfume. Was she going to help him or was she preparing for an audition in the next porn movie starring a naughty nurse?

Catching sight of his judgmental glance the woman frowned. "Stop looking at me like I just murdered half a dozen puppies! This was needed for my plan to work so enough doubting and just follow me."

Being honest, Klaus could not see how pampering herself up could, in any way, be beneficial to him being granted access to the security room, but he decided to just do as she'd said, seeing as he had no better lead to follow.

Making their way through intricate hospital corridors, Klaus could not help hoping to see Caroline pop from around one of the corners, clad in her pristine white coat, smiling at anybody passing her by. But that was only a figment of his imagination and unless he did something really fast, that was all it would ever be.

"Wait here," Rebecca suddenly ordered, placing one hand on his chest and pushing him back behind a wall. "The moment you see me walking out of the door with the security guard accompanying me, you go in and search those recordings. You will probably have around 30 minutes. I will try to hold him longer, but even with his crush on me, I cannot guarantee more than half an hour."

Realization dawned on him as to why the woman had cleaned herself up and he felt like an asshole for even doubting her.

"Thank you," he genuinely said.

"Don't even mention it," Rebecca smiled nervously. "Just bring her back safely and remember to take care of yourself too."

"I'll bring her back, I swear," he effortlessly ignored the last part of her request knowing it would probably be next to impossible for them both to make it out alive.

Going by the disappointed shake of her head, Rebecca had caught the subtle nuance of his promise, but instead of wasting more time on arguing with him about it, she just plastered on a smile and, without hesitation, entered the security office.

No more than 3 minutes had gone by and she was already coming out, a tall, buff, extremely young guard holding her hand, a smitten look in his eyes letting Klaus know that he would probably have more than 30 minutes should he need them.

Which he really hoped he didn't when every single second mattered in this race to save the life of the only woman he'd ever truly loved.

But that appeared to be wistful thinking after more than 20 minutes had passed and he had not found one single, viable lead. There had been no one suspicious visible on the recording from outside with them kissing, Mikael probably hiding in one of the three blind spots while snapping photos of them. So the only thing remaining had been to check the entire day and hope something would pop up.

So far he'd had no luck.

He was about to close the footage and just wait for the next text message which would surely contain something more than a picture, perhaps even a meeting time and place when he saw it. To pretty much anyone else, it would have looked like a harmless conversation between Caroline and a fellow doctor.

But to Klaus something had rung all of the alarm bells in his head. There was something awfully familiar about that stiff position and slender figure, but for a few moments he couldn't place it.

All he knew was that the person on the footage had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as an unexplainable rage built up in him at the sight of him talking to the blonde.

And when the man turned around, his green eyes landing straight on the camera, Klaus could finally pinpoint the cause for his feelings.

Finn Mikaelson was staring back at him with a coldness that was way too much even for the darkest Mikaelson brother. The cruelty laced in those pools of emerald froze Klaus' blood. And when a smile crossed those lips as he bid goodbye to Caroline, the younger man knew it was not really meant for Caroline but for him.

Finn had known this would make its way to his sibling and he was enjoying torturing him more than ever before. If there had been any trace of humanity residing within Finn when they'd last seen each other, Klaus was sure that it was completely gone by now.

All that remained was a man thirsty for blood.

And the only way he could sate himself at the moment was Caroline Forbes.

Running out of the security room, he didn't stop until he was back in his car, not even bothering to apologize when he slammed into a nurse, knocking her down. He didn't trust himself to speak any coherent, kind words. Not when he pondered on the concept of Caroline being at Finn's mercy.

It was actually even worse than her being held captive by Mikael himself. His stepfather was indeed cold and violent, but he had never reached the same heights of sadism with a person who had not wronged him as Finn. The oldest Mikaelson took great pleasure in watching anybody bleed and beg for mercy only to always deny it at the last second. He had a way of making you feel like you were already burning in hell's darkest pits only to realize that his torture was far greater than anything the devil himself could accomplish.

And now the subject of that was Caroline.

The picture he'd received almost two hours ago had probably just been the beginning of the blonde's torture- Finn's appetizer. And he was still powerless to prevent it. His half-brother was draining the life out of one of the few people he'd ever truly loved just to hurt him and there was nothing Klaus could do.

Unable to hold it all in anymore, Klaus slammed his fist on the steering wheel and then did it again and again until his flesh was raw and blood was coursing down his knuckles. Now, besides the overwhelming anger at least he felt satisfied that Caroline was not the only one bleeding. He was the one who deserved to suffer not her- the most selfless, full of light, kind and innocent person he'd ever been around.

To make it all worse, he still did not know where she was being held and if Finn deigned it fit to torture her for two more weeks it would be out of his grasp to do anything about it. He knew Finn's modus operandi. He did not ever leave any loose ends and he would not be found unless he wanted to.

This was all his fault. He should have never allowed Caroline into his life. He knew that he only wrought heartache and pain to the people dumb enough to wish his company and he'd still given in. He'd allowed himself to be weak and listened to his heart's foolish longing.

He could have just as well signed Caroline's death warrant.

And to top off his list of monumental mistakes, he'd gotten Elijah mixed into his mess as well. Him getting on that plane towards Mystic Falls had equated painting a bull's eye on his back.

How could he have been so stupid?

Once more his fist connected, leaving a trail of crimson on the black leather, but he didn't feel the pain. He was numb to any physical pain. Moreover, he welcomed it. It gave him clarity and the blood was the first step towards cleansing his sins. Gallons more needed to be spilled though for him to be granted a shot at redemption. By the time he would be worthy of it, he knew life would have long left his body and he was absolutely alright with it.

All that mattered was bringing Caroline back.

By a strange twist of fate, for the first time in decades, one of his prayers was answered and his burner phone announced a new text message from an unknown number. Klaus did not dwell on wondering how could Finn have gotten a hold of his new number so quickly because he knew that when Mikael was involved, things moved at a speed unrivaled by any.

 _Abandoned cabin in the forest, 1 hours. Come alone or Caroline will pay the price. And when I am done with her, I am going to make you watch as I kill dear Elijah. Your choice, brother._

No sooner had Klaus double checked that there were no pictures attached to the message than he was speeding towards the appointed location, breaking at least a dozen laws, but knowing nobody would stop him. Mikael and Finn were sure to have the only road leading to the forest watched and cleared of any unfriendly police.

He was well aware that he was most likely running towards brutal death, but he was determined to spare Caroline that gruesome ending.

In the end, trading his life for hers was not such a bad way to go.

In fact, it was a better, more noble death than he deserved and surely Finn would find a way to take that away from him too.

That's all Finn and Mikael ever did, after all, carve at a person's soul until there was nothing left for them to feast on and then put an end to the empty carcass left before them.

And Klaus was walking without any hesitation straight into their trap.

For Caroline. It was all for Caroline.

* * *

 **A/N: I am so sorry for the delay, but I was on a student exchange program and just got back. I hope you all have wonderful summers! Now, I would like to thank anybody who is still reading this story- if there is anybody left. Thank you so much for sticking with me and I promise you there is not that much left. A few chapters and we will end this journey, but I can promise you that they will be quite crazy. Now, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you have the time let me know what you thought of it. Knowing that somebody is still reading this is the fuel that gets me writing. Hope you have a great week and thank you once more!**


	22. Chapter 22

Walking towards certain death was probably supposed to be terrifying or at least accompanied by a feeling of dread. That's what Klaus had always believed those suicide bombers back in Syria felt as they were heading towards innocent human beings, knowing that their clocks were slowly ticking away.

Still, as he was pushing through the forest, walking the remaining mile towards the cabin on foot, Klaus felt none of that. Instead, he felt his heart pounding in his chest as he pushed himself to go even faster. He was not trying to postpone his inevitable end, but rather he wanted to ensure Caroline's survival. That was all that truly mattered.

Honestly speaking, his utter lack of regret came as no surprise to the man. He had stopped caring about what happened to him a long time ago and all he'd done since then had been surviving the miserable life that God continued to bestow upon him. Only once Caroline had literally clawed her way inside his heart had he started to feel like he was living again.

And he could never thank her enough for bringing him back to life for this short time.

However, the fairytale had come to an end and he had to settle the accounts of his past before they destroyed Caroline too.

Clasping his fingers tighter around the gun, Klaus could finally make out the cabin Finn had sent him coordinates for. Located in a clearing, close to the river, it looked taken straight out of a cheap horror movie with its wooden walls and dirty, black windows. On the porch some flower pots welcomed any visitors, but what had once been vibrant colors had now been reduced to wilted, dead remnants.

Like he knew he would be once Finn and Mikael were done with him.

One last steadying breath and a scrutinizing gaze around to determine whether there was anybody else over there other than Finn and he was walking straight into the clearing, gun held in front of his face. He and Finn knew each other all too well for them to try any kind of surprise attack.

His older brother was expecting him. Klaus knew it and had no intention of putting up much of a fight. All he cared about was Caroline and the risk of her being caught in the crossfire had his hands tied behind his back.

Slowly opening the door, he cringed when the creaking, ancient hinges announced his entrance into Finn's trap. Yet, all he was met with was pitch darkness, not even a glimmer of those cruel hazel eyes he'd grown to know and despise, but Klaus knew he was lurking somewhere in the shadows watching.

He could feel it.

"I'm here, Finn, alone, just like you asked. Where is Caroline?"

Keeping the familiar weight of the gun aimed in front of him, Klaus went deeper and deeper into the lodge when finally a dark chuckle reached his ears. Whirling around, he tried to pinpoint the location, but with being enveloped in black, his senses were still in overdrive, trying to make up for the absence of sight and refused to cooperate properly. With a quiet sigh, he continued onwards, now certain that Finn was close by. And however much Klaus hated to admit, his sibling had the upper hand. He was practically holding all of the cards simply by having Caroline.

"Allow me to take you to your beloved Caroline, brother," came a whisper so close that the younger man could feel his brother's warm breath on his neck. Immediately he tried to dart around and land in a lucky shot, but it was too late. All he could make out was a horrible pain in his temple as Finn's weapon connected.

Then a wide, satisfied smirk and the feeling of freefalling engulfed him before making room for the luring spell of unconsciousness to grab hold of him.

Yet, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind that when he woke up he would see Caroline.

That was more than enough.

* * *

Slowly wrestling back to awareness, Caroline Forbes kept her eyes tightly shut. Perhaps if she pretended to still be knocked out she would get a longer reprieve. Perhaps Klaus would come barging in to save her while her act was still lasting. Perhaps round 2 with Finn would remain just her worst nightmare that never came to fruition.

And while a part of her hoped with all of her heart for that to be true, for him to come and put an end to the fire that had encompassed her torso and that was burning even stronger with every breath she took, most of her prayed that he would just abandon her.

Rationally speaking, she knew that if he walked in there, the chances of him living were those of a goldfish thrown into a piranha tank. And she loved him too much to ever wish bad things to happen to him.

A small whimper escaped her lips at the thought of Finn and Mikael getting a hold of Klaus and she immediately cursed herself. If her captor was close by, she'd most certainly given herself away. She would have single handedly put an end to the merciful break.

Only it was not Finn's rough voice that spoke to her. It was the voice of another Mikaelson. The one that held her heart in the palm of his hands. The one that couldn't – _shouldn't_ \- be there.

"Caroline, are you awake?" but she still refused to pry open her orbs. She had to be dreaming. A reality in which Klaus was in this wretched place with her was not one that she wanted to be awakened to. "Caroline, please if you can hear me I need you to open your eyes. Please."

The nearly begging tone of his voice was enough to make her abandon the fight with reality. Even though she hated it, she had to face it. Slowly, she did as asked.

Immediately she wished she had not.

For Klaus was strung up from the same pipe, right in front of her, shirt off and blood oozing out of a shallow head wound. He didn't appear otherwise harmed, but his eyes screamed of an unimaginable pain as they focused on the cuts on her abdomen.

A few moments went by in which neither one dared break the silence, both soaking in the sight of one another, taking the time to memorize each and every feature of the other since they doubted making it out alive was an option.

In the end it was the man who said the first words.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry my past is hurting you. I'm sorry I failed you, Caroline."

The string of whispered apologies was laced with so much regret that it felt like a dagger cutting straight through the woman's heart. It was not his fault and he should not be blaming himself. Yet that was not what hurt her the most. His presence here, a prisoner just like her cut her more than Finn or Mikael's weapons ever could. The anger she felt at his stupidity was the only thing she could focus on. Because he'd given his twisted family everything they'd ever wanted.

"What are you doing here, Klaus?"

The coldness of her voice had the man's head snapping up, confused mercury clashing with angry forest green. And it had not even scratched the surface of the fury simmering underneath.

"I…" he hesitated upon seeing a darker Caroline than he'd ever seen. "I…came for you."

"You can't possibly be that stupid," something akin to disgust made itself present in the snare of her lips and the flare of her nostrils. "I might not have lived in your and Finn's insane, murderous world, but I think I am smart enough to know that neither one of us will see the light of day again. So why did you come here?"

"I… had to be with you, Caroline," he still struggled with uttering that four-letter word. "And I will ensure that you make it out of here alive, somehow. I swear that to you."

A humorless laugh filled the room as the blonde threw her head back, unable to keep looking at the bound man in front of her.

"That sounds insanely naïve even to me, Klaus and I still have no idea what your brother is capable of. This," she pointedly stared at her cuts. "I'm well aware this is nothing. So the better, more accurate answer is that you came to die with me, right?"

"No," he quietly shook his head hating himself even more for bringing that kind of darkness into her life. "I came here because I love you."

Just like that he'd said the words he'd been running from for more than a year. The words that he hoped would bring some light into her world. Somehow make her see that she would not be dying there. He would never allow that. No person that he loved would be dying under his eyes ever again.

"Don't say that," she averted her eyes. "Don't you say that now, not now," the first tear rolled down her cheek. "Don't you dare say that and make me responsible for your death! You were safe, free and just because I am a stupid girl who cannot discern between a genuinely kind person and a deranged one, you should not have to die. You know, the bad that they could have done was limited to just me if you had simply stayed away," a sob cut her tirade short. "Now they have everything they've ever wanted."

The younger Mikaelson was transfixed, watching the woman he loved blame herself for what was coming. She was speaking of her life as if it held no meaning and it broke his heart to know that he had been responsible for bringing her into those depths of desperation. She could not fall into the pit of darkness he was so familiar with. He had to find a way for her to remain just as full of light as she'd been when he'd met her.

But he had no idea how to do that. All he had to offer were his life and his love and the first one he'd already given to Finn. So that left him with a love that she did not want to hear about, but that was stronger and pulsating against his veins harder than any other feeling he'd experienced before.

"I love you, Caroline," he repeated as calmly and softly as he could. "I love you and I will repeat it until you decide to hear me out…"

"Stop, please just stop," she begged, rivulets trailing down her pale skin.

"I won't. Not now when I have the chance and am finally able to say these words. You know, after Henrik and Camille died I never thought I would tell someone else that I loved them. I was a broken mess of a man who'd taken refuge in a bottle, uselessly trying to drown out the demons in my mind and you helped me pull myself together. You gave me another opportunity to experience happiness and even if I die today, I would never go back and erase the moments in which we were together. Would you?"

"I…" hearing him say that was all she'd wanted for days, but now it felt like goodbye. She did not want a goodbye. She'd rather they died together or she alone rather than for him to go. "Of course I wouldn't, Klaus. But I don't want to be the one to blame for your death. I can't live with that burden. I just can't."

"You know, once upon a time I thought the exact same thing," his eyes glazed over as he immersed himself in the past. "And yet I learned to live again. You showed me how. And if I shall die today, I am sure you will figure it out too. A nice, perfect guy, like that surgeon Harry will come in, sweep you off your feet and show you the beauties of life, all those places that I only dreamt of showing you."

"I…I don't want anybody else to show me anything, Klaus. It would never be the same, it would never be enough," teary emeralds finally gathered the courage to lock with steel blue and the woman could finally see the liquid threatening to overflow. She couldn't hold back any longer. "I love you. I will always love you."

"As will I, Caroline."

Weak smiles graced their mouths as they both reached out their fingers to try and catch a fleeting touch of the other, but it was in vain. They'd simply been tied far enough apart that they'd come within inches, but never succeed.

"How touching," Finn stepped out of the shadows, hands clasped behind his back. "I always knew you were weak, brother, but I never imagined you were also this pathetic."

"Go to hell, Finn," Klaus angrily spat.

"Oh, I certainly will, when my time comes, but I have a feeling that you will be there long before me."

With that, the oldest Mikaelson revealed what had been hidden behind his back. A black leather bullwhip. Caroline's gasp elicited another sick laugh from their captor.

"Don't worry, sweet Caroline, this is not for you. Yet." As if on cue, he cackled at a joke only he could understand. "For the moment, I only have eyes for my sweet brother. After all, I have to show him just how much I've missed him."

"I won't fight you, Finn. Just let her go. Her usefulness has reached its end. Let Caroline walk away and you can have me."

"Oh, but I already have you, Niklaus. Besides, it would be a shame for her to miss the show, don't you think?"

"You're sick," Caroline got out through gritted teeth.

"Maybe," Finn liked his lips hungrily. "But your beloved is about to be a whole lot sicker."

Without further warning, he cracked the whip in the air and brought it down on Klaus' stomach. All his pent up anger was entwined in the inhumane strike. Pieces of flesh went flying in the air and blood splattered all around, a few warm drops landing on Caroline's face. The blonde could not contain the sob that escaped her lips at the sight of the deep, long gash on Klaus' skin. Yet the man remained quiet, jaw clenched shut. The only evidence of the pain he must have felt were his tightly coiled muscles and clenched eyes.

Not wasting a moment, Finn landed another perfect hit, parallel to the first one, only this cut even deeper, crimson gushing out and staining the dirty floor.

And then another one followed, even more vicious, entwining with the first two and exposing strained abdominal muscles. A pool of blood had already started to form beneath Klaus' feet and Finn risked one glance at it, basking in the result of his handiwork.

However, Klaus had kept silent through it all. Not even a whimper had escaped his façade. It was like the pain wasn't even reaching him. Like he was immune to Finn's torture.

But Caroline was not.

Tears had started to roll down her cheeks as she saw the man she loved with all of her heart being tortured by his own brother. Never before had she imagined that there could be someone as cruel as Finn Mikaelson. She'd been living in a world in which such evil only existed in movies and books, but now that she had the older Mikaelson in front, she knew the artful creations had all failed in capturing a human being's true potential for destruction. After all, how could someone even begin to imagine such demonic darkness inhabiting a person?

While she'd been contemplating just how far somebody could go, Finn's hand had not hesitated for a moment, landing three more strikes across Klaus' lower abdomen.

What had once been perfectly sculpted muscles and ivory skin was now a jagged mess of deep cuts, skin flayed beyond comprehension. Startled, Caroline realized that in spite of the excruciating pain, Klaus had not moved an inch. He'd taken it all in without giving even a sign that Finn was really hurting him, although Caroline could see the little giveaways: the furrowed eyebrows, the gritted teeth, the clenched fists and the thin sheen of sweat glistening on the man's forehead.

The utter lack of reaction seemed to be getting to Finn who had probably been expecting begging and pleading by this stage. That frustration seemed to unleash his even darker side, the one that he'd kept hidden so far.

So his hits got stronger, more vicious and with less of a break in between. And the whip landed on its mark once, twice- the woman lost count at the tenth one.

Soon there was no speck of uninjured skin to blemish on his stomach and Klaus had yet to give in and hand his brother what he longed for. He had yet to break.

At one point Caroline had started to doubt Klaus was even awake and had dared hope that he'd fainted, but when the whip connected again, she'd caught his subtle deep breath and flare of his nostrils.

"Impressive," Finn finally lowered his hand, critically searching for a place to land his next blow. He didn't seem to find one. "It looks like a small change is in order, _brother_."

At the last work, Klaus finally reacted, grey eyes snapping open.

"You were never truly my brother, Finn," his voice was unnaturally raspy as he swallowed down what Caroline knew to be blood. In spite of it, his strength never wavered, nor did his pure defiance. "Merely Mikael's favorite puppet, so do your worst. I'm not afraid of you."

The blonde could not believe his words. _Do your worst_? If what she'd been witnessing so far had not been the worst Finn was capable of, she shuddered at the thought of what might be.

"Happily," Finn snarled angrily. "When I am done with you, you will be cowering in fear at the mere mention of my name."

"Never."

One simple word.

Just one was enough to flip the humanity switch in Finn's brain. A feral rage akin to nothing Caroline had ever witnessed took over as he walked behind Klaus and got started on his back. Only this time there was nothing restraining him. The power granted by insanity was driving his every move and the woman could immediately spot the difference. One hit was enough to send Klaus flying forwards, the rusted pipe complaining loudly at the strain it was under.

But Finn had just gotten started. There was no break between hits, only the time needed to coil back the whip as he pounced on Klaus. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks uncontrollably only this time they were accompanied by pitiful whimpers and hiccups. Judging by their reactions, should a blind man venture into Finn's death trap, he would have guessed that the woman was being tortured, not the stoic man who had yet to make a sound.

And then, after 8 more hits, the inevitable happened- a sliver of Klaus' control slipped. A grunt escaped his lips. It was barely audible, but Caroline knew that it was louder than a scream when it concerned Klaus. For him to show this much weakness, she knew agony must have been completely encompassing his body.

But Finn was so enraged that he didn't even seem to hear the momentary crack in the other man's armor. He kept at it, gasping for breath as he tried to hit harder and harder every single time.

One particular blow was so hard that it almost knocked Klaus down on his knees, feet slipping on the deep pool of blood underneath. The restraints and sheer force of will were the only things keeping him standing as his skin got paler than that of a ghost. Through his hunched form, the woman could see his back, that along with his lower abdomen comprised the only parts of Klaus' body that still held any color: red. The color of fire. The color of life.

Only this time it was the color of death.

A death that was slowly wrapping its claws around the man she loved.

And Caroline couldn't take it any longer. She'd tried to do as he'd asked. She'd tried to be strong, just like Klaus was. She'd tried not to break. But this was too much. Klaus would die if this continued for much longer. And he might not care much about his life, but for Caroline it meant her entire world. If Klaus died, she died. There was no other way.

"Stop! Please just stop!" she found herself screaming.

While Finn appeared content to ignore her screams, Klaus wasn't because pained cerulean orbs snapped open, locking with her own. A crimson hue contrasted heavily with the grey irises as unspilled tears of agony threated to overflow. Still, Klaus found it in him to blink them away and try to appear in control of his emotions. Try to appear unaffected by the continuous hits of the whip against his back. He was still trying to comfort her. Still trying to get her to keep quiet.

And it finally dawned on her why.

He was trying to keep Finn's attention on himself.

Prevent the thought of another round with Caroline from crossing him mind.

There was nothing in this world that she dreaded more than having the older Mikaelson sibling near her again. It was almost enough to send her into a full-fledged panic attack, but that could also mean a break for Klaus. That was worth it, she quickly decided, relinquishing the iron-hold she'd had over her tongue.

"Stop! You're killing him, Finn! Just stop it!"

Yet her screams appeared to fall on deaf ears. Finn was too blinded by his hatred for his brother to hear her, but she continued, begging him to stop as Klaus openly stared at her, having yet to let out a sound louder than a grunt even though Finn had moved to another strategy. He was landing his blows on previous ones, making sure to always cut one extra layer of skin. She shuddered to think what would happen when there was no more soft tissue left. Would the whip work its dark magic on bone as well? Would she be forced to watch as Finn snapped bone after bone in Klaus's body? Would she be forced to hear the sickening sound of snapping bones? Would Klaus finally lose it? Would his screams deafen her entirely?

No, she could not- would not- let it go that far.

"Stop it, you cowardly son of a bitch!"

The insult seemed to have hit its mark, Finn's hand stilling in the air.

Klaus, who had been bracing for the next hit, alarmed at his brother's acknowledgement of Caroline's words, turned to look at the woman, surprised by the ferocity with which she was glaring at his brother. He knew Mikael used to call Finn a coward when he'd been nothing but a 4 year old boy unsoiled by his father's evil nature. He knew the woman now had Finn's undivided attention. And there was nothing worse in the entire world.

Just one blow of the whip against her frail porcelain skin would be enough to kill him. All of the physical pain his brother could inflict upon him would never match up to the feeling of his heart breaking. The resulting millions of shards would, in turn, cut him into so many pieces that nobody could ever dream of putting together. Caroline getting hurt was his kryptonite.

She had been right from the start.

This cabin would be their grave. And he might as well have dug it with his bare hands. He should have waited for Elijah. He should have come up with a solid plan. He should have found a way to keep the image of Caroline's mangled body from clouding his judgment.

But all of the should-have and could-have in the world would not chance his grim reality. A reality in which Caroline had openly defied Finn Mikaelson. Few had lived to see a new dawn after smaller feats.

"How dare you interfere you stupid, insolent girl?" Finn snarled in her direction.

Yet Caroline remained unmoved. To pretty much anyone else in the world, she would have appeared unbothered and unafraid, but even in his weakened state, with the cabin walls spinning, Klaus could see the subtle tremor of her hands. He could see the fear reflected in her bloodshot eyes.

"I wonder, what would father dearest say when he finds out you killed Klaus before he could get a chance to exact his precious revenge? Would you get a prize or would your fate be worse than even Klaus'?"

Not trusting his voice to speak, Klaus weakly shook his head, trying to get her attention and somehow get her to shut up. Finn in this feral state was not to be trifled with.

"Keep your mouth shut unless you want me to shut it for you for good," Finn warned as the last shreds of self-control began to evade him.

"No," Caroline defied both of the Mikaelson siblings. "If you keep this up, you'll kill him. I won't just stand back and allow you to do that."

"And how exactly do you plan on stopping me?"

Judging by the lack of reaction on her part, Caroline had been expecting that question and she had an answer prepared. Although, going by the hesitant, unconscious biting of her lip, he knew she dreaded what she had to do.

And that's when it dawned on him just what the dumb, selfless girl wanted to do.

Gathering all of his remaining energy, Klaus forced his voice to resonate, cringing when it came out as a panted croak. "Caroline, don't do this."

Yet she didn't even acknowledge him, focusing all of her attention of their torturer.

"Take me instead. If you really want to hurt him, do it through me. I guarantee it will have more of an impact."

No, Klaus weakly shook his head at the stubborn and apparently suicidal blonde. The sheer torture Finn could inflict with that weapon was not something Klaus would wish upon his worst enemies and yet Caroline was offering herself up to him on a sliver platter.

A nearly blank canvas for his disturbing hatred to defile.

"Did you hear that brother?" Finn maniacally cackled as if he'd just been told the best joke in the entire universe. "She wants to take the punishment for you."

Klaus ignored the obvious bait, mercury still transfixed on terrified pools of emerald. His entire body felt like it had been doused in gasoline and lit up like 4th of July fireworks and he could feel the strength ebb away from his twitching muscles. If not for Caroline's presence, he would have long given in and allowed death to claim him. But he couldn't until he knew she was safe and sound.

Therefore, he clung to the last remaining pieces of resolve and sanity left in his body, focusing on the woman who'd proven him that love always made you more powerful. That love could save and redeem even the blackest souls, like his had been.

And there was no chance that he would allow even a paper cut to blemish her skin while there was still life in him. Never again.

"Don't be ridiculous," he ground out, surprised at how resolute he'd sounded. "I'm the one you want so just get it over with. We both know Mikael will give you a medal for utterly ruining his disgraced stepson. The worst you can manage, the better he will reward you."

Hurt laced green eyes at the words Klaus was forming. He really valued his life so little that he would not accept this little reprieve that she could grant him. Tongue-tied, she watched as a war continued to wage within their capturer's mind, gaze darting between his two prisoners.

"Why?" she weakly asked as a lone tear escaped the last of her crumbling walls.

"I promised…" he drew in a shaky breath. "Besides, you know I can take it."

 _I'm not so sure,_ but she kept quiet, not trusting herself not to break completely, _I know I can't._

"Oh, the emotion is literally killing me," sarcasm dripped from Finn's words. "You know what? I genuinely can't decide which one's word to take. Never have two prisoners argued for who was to receive the special attention of my whip. I'll have to think it over."

Just like that, he made his way out of the room, humming an out-of-tune old war song Mikael had taught his young boys.

Unable to believe that they'd been left alone, Klaus fought against the heavy fog in his mind, knowing he had to keep a clear head. This could well be the only opportunity they would get. But even thinking was hard when your entire body yearned for blissful, deep sleep and a break from the unbearable agony pulsating within each raw nerve-ending and shouting at the slightest of moves. Right then, blinking appeared an insurmountable mountain that he lacked the energy to conquer.

Yet giving up would mean death. And if it would have been only his, he would have welcomed it with open arms. The inferno that had always been his life was simply not reason enough to keep fighting, but the woman eying him with kind, concerned eyes was.

She was the only thing keeping him going. And he would get her out even if it was the last thing he did.

That vow he'd made for her was not one he was willing to break. Not now and not ever.

Silence had stretched over, like a blanket covering them with its phantom warmth, lulling them into a tricky sense of comfort as they basked in each other's company, neither risking to break the spell in fear that it was the last moment of peace in their lives.

However, it had to be done and Klaus knew that.

Bracing himself and pursing his lips together, he used the manacles around his wrists to try and push himself to a fully sitting position. The creaking of the pipes served as a reminder of just how weak he was as he fought against the spasms in his legs.

"What are you doing?" Caroline asked horrified. "You need to rest and save your strength."

As a physician, the woman was all too aware of the extent of Klaus' injuries even though he'd done everything in his power to shroud and minimize it. Frankly speaking, it was a medical miracle that he was even conscious, let alone moving.

"There's no time for that now. It's our only chance."

Chance? Chance for what?

Before she could ask though, his attention shifted away from her, delirious grey eyes frantically darting to every corner of the room, disappointment always washing over him as he failed to find whatever he was searching for.

"Klaus, please," she all but begged. "Just try to rest. You need it after what that monster did to you."

"I'm fine, Caroline."

As if to emphasize his statement, he rose up to full level, closing his eyes as the straining, sharp movement opened his wounds even more. How that was possible, the man had no idea seeing as his entire midsection had been whipped into a blooded mess of raw flesh and muscle, the protection of the skin long gone.

A crippling wave of nausea took over him, bile filling his mouth and combining with the disgusting metallic taste of blood. Only through his honed reflexes did he manage to wrap weak fingers around the chains.

"You are definitely not fine, Klaus. You need to rest as much as you can and…"

Caroline's bossy authoritative voice faded to the background though as the only sound he could focus on was the heavy protesting of the pipe against his efforts. An idea was starting to form in his mind and with it, a glimmer of hope started to unexpectedly blossom.

Once more, just to ensure that it hadn't been a figment of his feverish mind, Klaus pulled down on his restraints. Sure enough, the shaking was still there, even stronger than before.

Although it seemed impossible, the hint of a smile started to form along with a crazy idea that might just succeed in getting them free.

Meanwhile, oblivious to her boyfriend's discovery, Caroline had continued to ramble about Klaus' recklessness. "…seriously not healthy," she finally caught a glimpse of the grin and feared for a moment that the man she loved with all of her heart had finally lost it. "What are you smiling about?"

"You'll see," his face turned into that lethal version of it that Caroline had only witnessed a couple of times. Then, he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and began pulling on his restraints. Seeing the pained grimace and the blood that had started to gush even quicker out of his wounds, Caroline was almost sure he'd gone mad.

After all, how much torture can a human psyche take before it lost touch with reality, choosing to take refuge in a place where pain and sorrow could no longer reach you? A reality in which one could smile again after being victim of injustice their entire lives.

Warmth began to gather in her eyes as she watched the man for whom she'd gladly lay her life down continue to wrestle with the manacles. His face was now as pale as a ghoul and she wasn't sure his body had more blood left to spare before it went into shock. However, her tongue was tied with the pain blossoming in her chest and words evaded her completely. She did not dare pull him away from his safe haven. The odds had long been stuck against them making it out alive and if that was his way to cope, she'd let him. Even if it was tearing at the seams of her heart.

And then she felt it. The small twitching of the pipe holding them both captive.

Could it be?

Was it truly possible that Klaus had not fallen victim to the hits, but had continued to fight for freedom?

Could somebody really be that strong?

Forcing her eyes wide open, scolding her treacherous heart for risking to dream, Caroline looked at the man's efforts in a different light. The carefully weighed moves and determined features were not those of a mad man, but rather those of someone on a mission. Someone who'd carried the weight of the world on their shoulders for so long that nothing seemed capable of fazing him out and distracting him from the task at hand.

Someone for who pain was merely an inconvenience although others would be on the ground screaming, writhing and begging for some morphine.

The pipe shook even more, the creaking music to Caroline's ears. The old cabin had not been prepared to deal with the force that was Klaus Mikaelson and that was becoming clearer and clearer as the metal shook more and more with each tug.

Yet, the miracle did not come without a price.

She could see power seeping out of the man's body as his injuries continued to overflow. Shuddering at the mere thought of the fiery pain that must have been igniting every cell in that battered physique, the woman was on the verge of putting a stop to this crazy endeavor.

A few more moments with a lucid Klaus would be enough for her.

A short goodbye before Finn or Mikael came to finish the job would be more than she'd dreamed for when first waking up in this god-forsaken place.

But Klaus appeared to have other plans.

Grunting he used up all of the power he could muster up for one last pull. Although he liked to push well beyond a normal human being's limits, even he had a breaking point and he was coming dangerously close to reaching it. His limbs barely obeyed his commands and the edges of his vision had started to be covered in black dots. Unconsciousness would not continue to be kept at bay with sheer willpower and his body was slowly shutting down.

Failure was knocking at his doorstep, but he refused to succumb to it. From a young age it had been engrained into his brain that being a failure was unacceptable and for once in his life he found himself agreeing with Mikael. Failure would never be an option with Caroline's life at stake.

Unsteady fingers continued to clasp down on the manacles and he could feel the rusted metal giving in. He was reaching the end of his resistance, but so was the pipe. Sure enough, his final tug, although far from being the strongest did the trick.

With an unholy roar, the hinges came undone and the pipe holding both of them collapsed, sending the disoriented prisoners tumbling to the floor.

The blonde doctor could not believe her eyes. Stunned, she had to pinch herself to make sure she had not fallen asleep and that this was not, in fact, a fabrication of her tortured mind. A chimera that taunted those poor thirsty souls lost in the desert right before death claimed them.

However, the second time she opened her eyes, she was still lying down, in a heap of tangled and weary limbs.

He'd done it. Klaus had done the impossible.

In spite of all of his brother's abuse, he had still found a way to keep his promise. He'd still managed to set them both free.

Well, technically not free yet. Although the pipe had given in, the thick handcuffs had not and they would remain there until help reached them.

A pained whimper is what interrupted her day dreams of safety and forcefully dragged her back to the present time. A time in which Klaus was sprawled on the floor, panting as the old, harsh cement dug into his back wounds. His eyes were closed and he had not even attempted to wiggle his manacles free from the fallen pipe.

Wincing at her own cuts, she half-walked, half-crawled to him, grabbing his frozen hand and weakly bringing it to her lips. He did not even stir. Only then did she note his shallow breathing and felt panic unlike any before coil its thorns around her heart.

Had he used up all of his strength to wrestle them free?

Could it be that he would never wake up?

Medically speaking, she knew he desperately needed a blood transfusion and antibiotics to fight off the infection that was already festering within, but she could not help but hope he would defy all odds again and open his eyes. She needed his help to get them both to safety. There was no way she could carry him.

And she was no idiot. She knew the ruckus the pipe had made was probably enough to attract Finn's attention and that he was undoubtedly coming back.

"Please wake up," she softly murmured in his ear as if she was whispering her dearest secret. "Please come back to me. Klaus, I need you. I can't do this on my own, please come back."

Gently cupping his cheek, like he was a piece of breakable porcelain, Caroline fought off the onslaught of tears and pressed her lips softly against his chafed lips. She could taste copper and acid, but also the unique, strong aroma that was Klaus Mikaelson. The sweetest taste in the world and her biggest addiction.

By miracle, like in those cheesy fairytales and Hollywood movies, his mouth started to weakly respond to her touch. Startled, she pulled away only to come across tired grey slits blinking heavily as they fought to remain open.

Klaus was awake and looking at her.

God had granted her that final miracle.

Unable to contain her emotions anymore, she allowed tears free reign as she continued to pepper his mouth with soft kisses, reveling in the feel of him meeting her with all of the passion he could muster.

They were alive.

And together they were unbeatable.

Or so she thought.

Until Klaus ruined it all, pulling away from her.

"You…" a vicious coughing fit stopped him. "You have to go."

"What? No way! I am not leaving without you."

To emphasize her point, she started to pull on his hand, desperate to drag him to a sitting position. Only he was not budging and rather than putting an effort into helping her, he seemed to fight to resist her. Once it became clear he had no intention of moving, the woman despondently let go.

"Why are you doing this, Klaus?" betrayed green eyes quietly asked.

"I'd only slow you down," he reasoned although seeing that look directed at him hurt almost as much as Finn's whip.

"I don't care," she vehemently declared unsure if she hated him for asking to be left behind or if she loved him even more for being willing to sacrifice himself again just to give her the best fighting chance.

"But I do," and those endless pools of cloudy sky appeared clearer than ever as he forced a cramping hand to cup her face. "I love you, Caroline and that's why I need you to be safe."

 _I need you to be safe too_ , she wanted to say. Instead, she said," He'll be coming back. The noise was too much."

"I know," a resigned smile crossed his face. "And I'll end things with Finn, but I need you to be safe," he stopped with a hiss as a new wave of pain hit him. "I can't let down another person I love."

"You could never let me down," she choked on her tears when she realized there was no changing his mind. She longed to ask him how he was going to end anything with Finn when he could barely move. She longed to ask him what he was going to do should Mikael himself show up with a bunch of thugs on his heels. But she bit her lip and swallowed down her words.

They would not shatter his resolve.

But they would waste whatever precious time they had.

And she couldn't afford that.

Fighting through her tears, Caroline leaned in for one last kiss. A kiss that conveyed all she felt yet could not articulate: desperation, anguish, sorrow and, last but definitely not least an overwhelming love. A love that was stronger than anything she'd ever felt before, a love that had brought her back to life and showed her what it was like to become one with somebody else.

A love that was all of that, but still not enough to keep them together.

A love that was tearing her apart.

When she pulled away she felt like an empty shell of the person who'd stood in the same spot no more than 1 minute ago.

"I love you," she dared whisper one last time before running up the stairs, not trusting herself to utter another word or to risk another glance. If she had given in to her heart's desires she would have never been able to leave Klaus' side. She would have stood by him and fought against Finn, shielded Klaus' broken body with her own if it ever came to that and would have been happy to die with him.

In the end though, she complied to his wishes, unable to say no to those honest and tender steel eyes who'd already sacrificed so much for her.

Every step was torture and not because of the shallow cuts on her skin, but because it took her one step further away from the man for whom her heart pounded against her chest.

Once she'd reached the cover of the forest, she dared stop and take a look around. She knew she was somewhere in the Mystic Falls forest, but had no idea how to reach any sort of civilization. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins at the thought that every second she wasted was another second in which Finn could finish the job with Klaus.

Willing herself to concentrate, she finally heard it. The weak sound of water flowing. The river! If she followed its shore, she could reach the outskirts of town. If she was really lucky, she could meet some hikers on the way and use their phones to call for help.

Not wasting another moment, she took off in that direction, sprinting with all of her might as if the fate of the world rested on her shoulders.

In a way it did: Klaus' life was in her hands.

And he was her entire world.

* * *

Watching Caroline's retreating silhouette and hearing the slamming of the front door was enough to ease all of the tension from Klaus' body. He'd been putting on a front for her sake, but the truth was that he barely had the strength needed to keep his eyes open.

Yet he didn't dare close them. He barely had the courage to blink for fear that his lead lids would stop complying with his commands and allow him to fall into the alluring embrace of darkness. And that was not an option.

When Finn returned he had to buy Caroline some more time. He had to give her the best fighting chance. Once she reached Mystic Falls he knew she would be safe. Elijah would have arrived by now and Klaus knew he would protect her. He harbored no doubt regarding his brother's honor and honesty. The young doctor could not have asked for a better guardian.

Although it hurt him more than he could have ever imagined, he hoped Caroline would indeed keep her promise and find someone worthy of her. Someone better than him, who would not be dragging her into their murky world. Someone with whom she could walk carefree in the sunlight.

With the image of a happy Caroline at the back of his eyes, Klaus nearly gave into the fatigue when he heard it. The stairs creaking and heavy, familiar footfalls announcing the return of his brother.

 _Too early. Way too early_ , screamed his mind as the dark figure finally came into sight. Caroline had not had nearly enough time to put a safe distance between herself and this place and in his state, Klaus doubted he could buy her much time.

"Well, well," Finn drawled surprise mixed with something that sounded an awful lot like amusement. "Would you look at that? Dear Niklaus finally got something right. All it took was to fall in love like a fool with an innocent and pretty blonde. I mean, to be willing to share the whiplashes with you was really something I would have never expected. She's one of a kind, I'll give you that."

Aware that he was being baited, Klaus did not deign the words with an answer, saving his strength for the moment when Finn would attack.

It never came.

Calmly taking one last look at the bloody mess of his younger brother Finn was heading back towards the stairs, reaching for the gun safely tucked in his belt.

"If you'll excuse me, brother, I have to go and fetch your lovely Caroline back. After all, we can't have her bringing an end to our time together before we even got to the fun part, right?"

Hearing the threat against Caroline awoke the fire that had been dormant since wrenching the pipe free.

"Stay away from her!" he all but commanded Finn who merely chuckled back. "You already have me. Why do you need her?"

"Oh, dear brother, I am going to enjoy breaking what's left of you so much. I can't do that without holding your one weakness in my hands."

Just like that, he stealthily moved up the stairs, leaving Klaus all alone and feeling as if the ground had opened and swallowed him up.

No, he could not allow Finn's filthy hands to touch Caroline ever again.

With a newly found purpose, Klaus took a deep breath to prepare for what was coming and, using the wall as support, stood up. Immediately, his wounds awakened with a vengeance, the intense throbbing leaving him heaving as he struggled to keep upright on his trembling legs. Never before had he felt as if every step further was another ray of thunder slicing through his body and setting him on fire.

Still, remembering Caroline was the only driving force he needed to clear his head and scout the room for anything useful. He'd just about lost faith when a glimmer of silver attracted his attention. Unwilling to waste another moment he ran as fast as he could to the ratty table in the corner and, to his utmost surprise, his eyes landed on his very own gun.

Satisfied that it still held a full clip, Klaus moved up the stairs, the weight of his gun providing a sense of comfort and confidence he hadn't even realized he'd needed.

Stepping outside, leaning on the side of the door, the man scanned the area for any movement to direct him towards Caroline and Finn's location. He had to find them before a tragedy occurred.

Proving that God had, for once, not turned his back on the younger Mikaelson, Klaus caught out of the corner of his eyes two sets of footprints embedded in the soft soil, both of them leading towards the forest. Right as he was about to step under the foliage, he noted that the two trails merged, indicating that Finn had not lost his eye for detail in the slightest.

Willing his body to go even faster, Klaus darted into an uncoordinated run, wincing as some of the branches cut even deeper into his damaged skin, serving as malevolent hands trying to stop him from making it in time.

Blood pumping heavily in his ears, only once he got remarkably close did he hear it: a river flowing. It all became clear. Of course Caroline would not venture into the unknown forest, but rather find a clue that would undoubtedly lead her back to Mystic Falls.

Who knew, maybe she'd even managed to outrun Finn and help would soon be headed his way.

That was a nice thought, but it was all it remained- a nice thought that would never become real. Just like every single time before, his hopes and dreams were squandered before they could even begin to grow and Klaus found himself faced with a picture that froze the boiling, infected blood in his veins.

Moving swiftly by the bank of the river was a panting Caroline who'd merely stopped for a few seconds to gather her breath. Apparently it had been enough for Finn to find her, gun poised to aim right where her heart was. Although a somewhat large distance still separated the two, Klaus knew his brother's shooting skills were enough for him to hit his mark without any issues.

That's precisely why Klaus' hands moved of their own accord, his own gun poised to hit Finn's chest. Remembering how he'd landed whip after whip on his skin, Klaus found that he held no remorse at the thought of murdering his half-brother in cold blood. He wouldn't lose any sleep over the death of one of the most sadistic people he'd ever met. Should he make it out of the forest alive, Klaus doubted his brother's name would even end up in his red ledger. That was reserved for the innocents whose lives had been taken because of him and Finn was nothing of the sort.

Finn was rotten to the core and there was no chance of redemption for him.

Not now and not ever.

The sound of Finn removing the safety was enough to spur Klaus into action. Vying to be faster, he coked his gun and fired. No hesitation.

What he had not accounted for was the blurriness of his vision and the shakiness of his hand. Those combined made him one of the worst shots in the history and his bullet embedded in Finn's left shoulder rather than putting an end to his pathetic existence.

Surprised, Finn whirled around to come upon Klaus still holding the gun in front of him, hands even more of a mess than before. A crazed smile lifted the corner of his lips. He looked like a demon who'd crawled straight out of the deepest corner of Hell with the sole purpose of ruining Klaus.

"You'll pay for that, brother."

The commotion had also drawn Caroline's attention, the woman watching the scene unfolding before her eyes. Watching blood pour out of Finn's shoulder and Klaus' unsteady figure struggling to remain upright. Watching as Finn turned back to look at her, a maniacal grin stretching on his face, contorting it into a mask of pure evil as he aimed his gun at her.

She was paralyzed and could not move.

All she could do was hear the desperate shout as the deafening echo of the shot disturbed the peaceful chirping of the birds.

Then a tsunami of pain hit her body as a bullet found its mark straight into her chest. Shock kept her from immediately collapsing to the ground as she lowered her eyes and came across the gaping hole right next to her sternum. Watching blood gushing out into her hands was quite familiar after years in the ER, but somehow hers felt different- darker and more threatening.

Probably because she knew the chances of surviving such a perfect hit were slim to none.

Finally, the gravity of the situation dawned on her and she found herself in a free fall, gasping when the pebbled ground hit her back, sending another burst of pain even stronger than before.

The whole world was spinning, colors starting to blend into one as she wrestled to keep her eyes open. Just enough to see Klaus. Make sure that Finn had not managed to hit him too. Lifting her head from the ground turned out to be a battle of its own and before she could win in, the sound of another gun going off knocked the remaining air out of her lungs.

 _Klaus was dead. Finn had got him too._

Unable to face the aftermath and see the lifeless body of the man for whom she'd have happily given her own life, she allowed her head to lower back down and her green eyes to slowly droop. There was no reason to keep fighting. And why would she when all that waited for her in that forest was that murderous, insane man? No, she'd much rather join Klaus in the realm of the dead before Finn could take even more away from her.

Drawing breaths was growing exponentially more difficult. Caroline could feel the tangy taste of blood invade her mouth and immediately knew time was running out. She'd be joining Klaus soon enough. Surprisingly, dying didn't scare her half as much as seeing Finn's whip come close to the younger Mikaelson's body. That had been pure terror and everything else paled in comparison. In fact, letting go sent a shockwave of relief through her system.

 _Klaus, I'm coming._

With that final thought, she finally abandoned all fight and surrendered to the darkness ebbing closer and closer.

* * *

As the gunshot resonated and hit its mark perfectly, Klaus could only stare in the distance at the crumbling figure of Caroline Forbes. He could not tear his eyes away from the chasm opened in her chest.

Only once she hit the ground did he manage to snap out of his trance, running as fast as his body allowed him to. Fatigue had been clawing to win control over him for hours, but he'd never been more sure than now that he could not allow that to happen. Not when Caroline relied on him for help.

With a newly regained clarity and sense of direction, Klaus plopped down on the ground in front of the lifeless body that had, merely seconds ago, been Finn Mikaelson. Klaus' bullet had gone cleanly through his brother's forehead, with it bringing justice and ridding the world of one of the most corrupted souls to have ever graced it. Trembling fingers typed a message to Elijah, knowing his brother would move mountains to get to the coordinates Klaus had sent him in time.

Once that was done and he knew that help would shortly be coming their way, Klaus forced his muscles to obey him one last time and bring him to Caroline's side.

He had to see with his own eyes her condition. See if she was still alive or if another innocent had died because he'd gotten too close.

The image that greeted him was one that not even his worst nightmares could have foreseen. The blonde's body was limply strewn on the muddy shore of the river, blood pouring out freely and mixing with the maroon soil. Her hair was forming a halo that coupled with the paleness of the skin, made it look like an angel's halo.

A broken angel's halo.

What really punched him in the gut though was that Caroline did not appear to be breathing. At all.

And that was what finally knocked him to the ground: the idea that Caroline was already gone.

A strangled sob pierced the air and startled, Klaus realized that it had come from him. He'd been the one pleading and rioting against the Universe and whatever God was up there against the unfairness of the situation.

He was the one who was supposed to die.

He was the one who _deserved_ to die.

Not Marcel.

Not Henrik.

And certainly not Caroline.

Grabbing hold of the woman's cold hand, Klaus allowed himself to cry for the first time in months. Allowed all of the pain to finally hit him full force. If she was dead, there was no reason for him to keep being strong.

After all, why should he continue to survive even though the people he loved, those more worthy of life did not?

Desperately squeezing Caroline hand, longing to feel her as close as possible, Klaus finally felt it.

The weak drumming of a pulse underneath his fingers.

Not quite daring to believe yet, Klaus closed his eyes and focused only on the hand tightly clutched in his, praying that he had not imagined everything.

After a few agonizing moments, he felt it again.

Barely, but the spark of life had not yet abandoned Caroline.

Snapping into action, his hands immediately pushed down on the woman's chest, in an effort to stem the bleeding and gain some more precious time. Enough for Elijah to come with an ambulance. As blood continued to seep through his fingertips, Klaus pressed down on the wound even harder, feeling the sternum oppose as much as it could.

The pain must have been excruciation for emeralds snapped open to glare at him, only to soften the second they came across Klaus' frantic grey eyes.

"Am I…" Caroline coughed weakly. "Am I dead?"

"No, sweetheart, you most certainly are not," he could not help the laugh bubbling in his chest as his heart swelled his joy at seeing those pools of green consciously gaze back at him.

"Are you alright?" panic grasped the woman's voice as she looked him over. "I heard the second shot and I thought…"

Judging by the anguished frown on her face, Klaus knew exactly what she'd thought and he sympathized because he'd felt it too when he'd believed her dead.

"I'm fine," his hand itched to cup her cheek, but could not abandon their post over her wound. "Don't worry about me right now."

"But you're not," she weakly argued, pointedly glaring at the gashes covering his entire midsection. Quite frankly, he'd almost forgotten about them, his pain completely evaporating from the crevices of his mind to make room for the elation of Caroline still being alive. "Nobody could be after that."

Klaus could not believe his ears. Here she was, literally bleeding out in his arms yet all she seemed able to think about was his wellbeing.

"I can take it, Caroline."

"I'm sorry," she gasped at a new wave of pain and swallowed the blood building in her mouth. "I'm so…sorry."

"What?" Klaus could not hide his disbelief.

"I'm the reason…why he got you. I'm sorry."

How she could be blaming herself for his sick and twisted family was beyond his comprehension, but Klaus could not just stand back and allow her to do that. Not when, loathe as he was to admit it, these could well be their last seconds together.

"Caroline, I love you, ok? And if it's anybody's fault for what happened it's mine. I dragged you into my world and I will never forgive myself for all that happened to you today."

"Not…" she grimaced as blood slowly escaped her lips. "Not your fault. And I love you too."

Using all of the power she could muster, Caroline lifted her trembling, handcuffed hands and placed them on Klaus's cheek, reveling in the feeling of his warmth and trying to draw the necessary strength to stay awake. She was no fool. She knew the bullet had punctured her lung and that she was slowly on the way to choking on her own blood, but she wanted to prolong that final moment with Klaus. Wanted to feel his skin touching hers for as long as possible. Wanted to never stop losing herself in those deep pools of mercury that held deadly potential yet were always so gentle when it came to her.

When her eyes ventured closed for a moment, she heard Klaus' sharp intake of air and even more, her shaky fingers could feel the warmth of a tear reach them. He was crying. Klaus Mikaelson, the man who could take dozens of whiplashes without blinking was crying for her.

And somehow, that thought was enough to pry her eyes open once more, but they were just tired slits that could not get the world to focus. Blackness had taken over the corners of her vision and even though she tried to blink it away, it only seemed to get thicker. She was reaching the end of the line and she could feel it. She could feel the cool numbing her limbs as more and more blood escaped in spite of Klaus' feral attempt to prevent it.

"Don't cry…" she forced herself to mumble.

Hearing her request, seeing that she was still trying to comfort him was more than Klaus could take. Shaking his head, he choked on the words he wanted to say, the lump in his throat refusing to budge. Those two muttered, pleading words had been enough for his dam to completely break. Rivulets cascaded down his pale cheeks as weak, frozen hands feebly tried to wipe them away.

"It okay," Caroline whispered weakly, trying to smile as a thin trail of blood ran down her chin. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

Meant as a reassurance, the words knocked the air out of Klaus' lungs. For it not to hurt anymore, the woman had to be even closer to the end of the line than he'd believed. Than he'd wanted to believe.

"Please stay with me," Klaus begged, barely audible words squeezing past his constricted throat.

"Always," she vowed with the last ounce of strength she possessed.

Horrified, Klaus watched as Caroline's eyes sealed shut, the weak hands resting upon his face lifelessly collapsing to the ground. The only evidence that life still coursed through the woman's body was the warm life-giving liquid oozing out of the wound, past his fingertips and even that flow seemed to slowly ebb away.

He'd failed, Klaus realized. He'd broken his promise.

He hadn't been able to save Caroline.

As if mourning alongside him, the forest remained completely silent, not even the sound of a bird's innocent chirping rasping through. The only thing left to fill the gaping, dark void was the soothing flow of the river. It was unmovable, unhindered by life's injustice. Just as people always found a way to move forward in life, so did nature.

However, Klaus was not one of those people. His life would not move on. For him, Caroline's death was the end of the line and nature's peace did not soothe him. No, it unnerved him to think that while the last remnant of life seeped out of the still body before him, nature would quietly resume its course. That while his world had reached its end, nothing would have changed in the long run.

God or whatever being governed their Universe was sick and twisted because to continue to bestow the gift of life to him rather than to genuinely good people like Henrik, Marcel and Caroline was pure insanity. If Klaus could, he would go pounding on God's door and demand that he save Caroline. Yet he was powerless, doomed to simply clutch at a bleeding wound as the woman he loved bled out completely. He was doomed to feel life's final whispers abandon her body.

And it wasn't fair.

With a last act of desperate defiance, Klaus disrupted the peace engulfing them as his feral, pained scream resonated throughout the empty forest.

* * *

 **A/N: To begin with, thank you so much to anybody that stuck with this story and that continues to read my slow updates. It means more than you could ever imagine so thank you from the bottom of my heart! Now, this was a monster chapter, more than 10k, that I debated between splitting or not just so I could give you a faster update, but it didn't feel right. It was really hard to write, especially the torture scene and the ending and I apologize for the cliffhanger, by the way, but I was simply writing and re-writing these parts since they never came out just the way I wanted. I hope you were not disappointed and if you have the time, please review and let me know what you thought.**


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